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Upon reaching the nearest settlement Jack left the people there whom he had rescued, and the Terror continued on her way.
On the following morning the rain ceased.
Breakfast was partaken of and then Jack said:
"Although we have created some mischief in the James Boys ranks, we have not yet done anything to bring the two ringleaders to justice. Nor have I gained a cent of the money stolen from the Wrightstown Bank."
"I have warned you what a slippery cuss Jesse is." said Timberlake, "Now you have seen some samples of it."
"He certainly is a pretty shrewd fellow."
"But whar is we ter look fer him!" asked Tim.
"He has no regular haunt," replied the sheriff.
"Den ve only by plind luck must go?"
"I'm afraid so, Fritz," a.s.sented Timberlake. "However, since he has started upon his raids again, he won't stop now until he makes a big haul. Then he is liable to divide with the gang, disband for a while, and seek safety in flight to some other section of the country until his funds are exhausted."
"Like most criminals, though," said Jack, "I see that he has the same hankering after the place where most of his villainy is practiced."
"All outlaws have a series of habits exactly like, as far as my experience has taught me," said the sheriff.
"When I wuz in ther navy," began Tim, "I once---"
Biff! came Fritz's fingers down on the back of his neck.
What he was going to say was choked off.
Then Fritz rushed him into the next room.
There he jammed the sailor and banged the door shut.
"Dot seddles him!" he chuckled.
As the door was locked they were spared the affliction of hearing another of Tim's awful yarns for the time being.
The Terror scoured the surrounding country for a week after that, but nothing was seen of the bandits.
It was then decided to run to Independence and try to get some information from the authorities there by means of which they could locate the gang.
According to this programme, the sheriff gave Tim the direction, and the old sailor steered the stage on her way.
It was then very late in the afternoon.
They followed a country road, and pa.s.sing several wayfarers, the appearance of the Terror caused them the most intense astonishment.
A few miles along the road they caught sight of an old fellow in a wagon loaded with grain.
He looked like a farmer.
There was no horse hitched to the vehicle.
But the shafts were broken and to the stumps there yet clung the remains of a broken harness.
The old fellow was the picture of despair.
He sat on top of his load, a whip in his hand and a big, red bandana handkerchief in the other with which he was vigorously mopping his forehead.
Fritz was steering the Terror.
Observing the forlorn countryman he burst out laughing.
"s.h.i.+miney Christmas!" said he, "dot fellow vas look like as if he vas got left behint mit his horse!"
"What are you talking about?" Jack asked from inside.
"Dot wagon in der roat."
"Where?"
"Ahet."
Jack emerged.
He saw the wagon.
And he also noticed an old log house.
He stood embowered among some trees, rocks, and bushes some distance ahead on the left hand side of the road.
In a moment more the Terror reached the wagon, and halting beside it, the countryman glaring at it with a look of the most intense astonishment upon his face.
"For the lands sakes alive!" he gasped, "what's that thing?"
"A stage that runs by electric power," Jack replied.
"And what's the trouble with you, sir?"
"I've been having an awful time with Eliza."
"Eliza? Who is she?"
"My mule."
"Oh! It looks as if she had been cutting up tricks."
"You'd ought to have seen her; consarn her old hide--and you'd have pitied me. She's the blamedest stubborn critter I ever seen. Once she gets her back up and quits, there's no use trying to go no farther. Look at the way she left me."