The Boy Land Boomer Part 7

"Why shouldn't I be? It took me a long time to save it--a good sight longer than it did for you to gamble it away."

"Tucker, I didn't gamble that away--I'll swear it. I used it in business."

"Business? What business have you got outside of your position as a land office spy?"

"A good business, if you only knew it. I've been following up a little deal that started in the East--in New York. Out there I had to hire a fellow I could trust to work for me, and that took most of the money.

But the whole thing is coming my way now, and I want to talk things over with you. How would you like to have a thousand back in return for the five hundred you loaned me?"

"What sort of a game are you working on me now?"

"A square deal, Tucker. I've been keeping my eye on you, and I reckon you are the fellow to do what I want done."

"And what do you want done?"

Vorlange stepped closer.

"The boomers are going to try to cross into Oklahoma either to-morrow or day after. There will be a fight, I am certain of it, and somebody will be shot and killed. When you fire I want you to pick out your man--two men--or, rather, a man and a boy, if you can do it. I may be on hand to take part myself, but there is a possibility that I may be ordered elsewhere."

"And you are willing to pay me five hundred extra for picking out my target, Vorlange?"

"You've struck it."

"Who is the man?"

"Can I trust you?"

"Yes."

"p.a.w.nee Brown."

At the mention of the great scout's name Tucker started back.

"Why--why do you want him knocked over?"

"He is my enemy. I have hated him from my boyhood!" cried Louis Vorlange. "And there are other reasons--he stands in the way of my pus.h.i.+ng the scheme I mentioned."

"p.a.w.nee Brown was here but a short while ago. He insulted and abused me," growled Tucker. "I'll put a bullet through him quick enough if I get the chance--that is, in a skirmish. I don't want to run any risk of being strung up for--you know."

"The shooting will be O. K., Tucker, and I'll help if I'm not ordered away. Do it and the five hundred extra are yours, I'll give you my word."

"What about that boy you mentioned?"

"His name is d.i.c.k Arbuckle. He is----"

"d.i.c.k Arbuckle? I know him. He stole my horse. I captured him and p.a.w.nee Brown came to his rescue and made me, Ross and Skimmy give him up," and Tucker gave the particulars in his own version of the affair.

"Then you bear the lad no love?"

"Love?" The cavalryman grated his teeth. "I was wis.h.i.+ng I could get a shot at him."

"Then keep that wish in mind, Tucker, when the time for action arrives."

"If it's worth five hundred to you to have p.a.w.nee Brown knocked over it ought to be worth more to have both of 'em laid low," suggested Tucker, who was naturally a grasping fellow.

"Five hundred in cold cash is a good deal in these times," was the slow answer. "But I'll tell you what I'll do. If, after a fight, you can bring me absolute proof that p.a.w.nee Brown and d.i.c.k Arbuckle are dead I'll give you an even twelve hundred dollars, the five hundred I borrowed and seven hundred extra. There's my hand on it. What do you say?"

"Will you promise to give me the money as soon as you have the proofs?"

"I will," and Louis Vorlange raised his right hand as though to make good such a blasphemous promise.

"All right, then; I take you up," answered Tucker.

CHAPTER VI.

d.i.c.k'S HUNT.

"Don't you take it so hard, my lad; I feel certain that your father will turn up sooner or later."

It was p.a.w.nee Brown who spoke. He addressed d.i.c.k, who sat on a horse belonging to Jack Rasco. The pair had been scouring the plains and the woods for three hours in search of d.i.c.k's father.

"Poor father! If only I knew what had become of him!" sighed the lad.

In his anxiety he had forgotten all about his adventures among the cavalrymen who had sought to detain him as a horse thief.

"It's a mystery, thet's what it is," burst in Jack Rasco.

"It looks loike the hivens hed opened an' swalleyed him up," was Mike Delaney's comment. "Be jabbers, we all know th' hivens was wide open enough last noight. Me turn-out is afther standin' in two foot o' wather, an' Rosy raisin' the mischief because she can't go out. 'Moike,' sez she, 'Moike Delaney, git a boat or Oi'll be drowned,' an' niver a boat in sight. Th' ould woman will have to shtay in the wagon till the wather runs off of itself."

"I wonder if it is possible my poor father wandered into town," mused d.i.c.k. "Perhaps he did that and was locked up by the police. He is--well, you know he gets strange spells," and the youth's face flushed.

"Run into town, lad, and make a search," answered the boomer. "If I and Rasco get the chance we'll follow. We shan't strike camp for several hours yet."

d.i.c.k thought this good advice and was soon on his way. The rain had stopped entirely and the sun was just peeping up over the distant plains when he entered Arkansas City and began his hunt.

A visit to the police station speedily revealed the fact that nothing was known there concerning his missing parent. Here d.i.c.k left a description of his father, and was promised that if anything was discovered of the man word would be sent to him immediately.

Having ridden around to the depot, hotels and other public places, d.i.c.k tied up his steed and began a hunt through the various streets, looking into the doors of the stores and saloons as he pa.s.sed.

His footsteps soon brought him down to the vicinity of the river front.

Here, situated along several blocks, were a number of eating and drinking houses, patronized princ.i.p.ally by river men, gamblers and similar persons.

Having satisfied himself, with a sigh of relief, that his father was not in any of the saloons, the youth came to a halt in front of a restaurant. He had not eaten anything since the evening before, and his night of adventures had made him decidedly hungry.

"I'll get a cup of coffee and some rolls to brace me up," he thought, and entered the establishment. His order was soon given, and he took a seat at a side table, close to a thin board part.i.tion.