"A message for you," said the operator, and handed it over.
It was from Washington and stated: "The Oklahoma bill is now before the Lower House; wait for more news."
"I"m glad we"ve woke up those politicians at Washington," murmured the scout, and then wrote out a telegram in reply.
There was now nothing to do but to wait, and impatient as he was to rejoin the boomers, p.a.w.nee Brown had to content himself until another message should reach him. To make the time pa.s.s more quickly the great scout went around to a number of places buying supplies that were much needed.
An hour later he found himself on the outskirts of the city, whence he had come to look up several wagons, to replace some that had broken down. He was galloping along on horseback when the sight of two men quarreling near the open doorway of a deserted barn caught his eye, and impelled by something which was more than curiosity, he turned in from the road to see how the quarrel might end. As he came closer he saw that one of the men was Mortimer Arbuckle!
"Hullo, what can this mean?" he cried, softly. "I thought d.i.c.k"s father was still in bed from the effects of that dastardly night"s work. Who can that stranger be?"
Dismounting, he tied Bonnie Bird to a tree and came forward, but in line with the barn, that he might not be seen. Soon he was within easy hearing distance of all that was being said.
"I want to know what brought you out here, Dike Powell?" he heard Mr.
Arbuckle say in excited tones. "Did you follow me?"
"No, I did not, Arbuckle," came in reply. "What makes you think I did?"
"I was knocked down and robbed but a few nights ago, and my most valuable papers, as well as my money, were taken from me."
"Do you mean to insinuate that I am a thief?" cried Dike Powell.
"You are none too good for it. I have not forgotten how you used to sneak around my office in New York after information concerning my Western mining claims."
"You"re getting mighty sharp, Arbuckle."
"I hope I am. I used to feel queer in my head at times, but--but--I think I am growing better of that."
As he spoke Mortimer Arbuckle drew his white hand across his forehead.
The attack and the adventure on the river had been fearful, but it really looked as if they were going to prove of benefit to him. His eyes were brighter than they had been for many a day. p.a.w.nee Brown noticed, too, that his manner of talking was more direct than he usually employed.
"I hope for the boy"s sake his mind is clearing," he thought.
"I think you are growing more queer--to accuse me," said Dike Powell. "I never harmed you."
"I know better. While I was on my back I thought it all over. Dike Powell, you are a villain, and if ever I get the chance I"ll turn you over to the police. You have followed me to the West, and for no good purpose. I will unmask you."
"Will you? Not much!"
Thus speaking, Dike Powell leaped forward. He was a powerful man, and catching Mortimer Arbuckle by the throat, he would have borne the semi-invalid to the floor had not p.a.w.nee Brown interfered.
There was a rush and a crack, as the scout"s fist met Dike Powell"s ear, and over the man rolled, to bring up against the side of the barn with a crash.
"Who--who hit me?" spluttered the rascal, as, half dazed, he staggered to his feet. "If I--p.a.w.nee Brown!"
"Dike Powell!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the scout, as he saw the fellow full in the face for the first time. "Where have you been these long years?"
"Oh, p.a.w.nee, how glad I am that you came in," panted Mortimer Arbuckle, sinking down upon an old feed box. "The villain was--was----"
"I saw it all, Arbuckle; rest yourself. I will take care of this forger."
"Forger!" came simultaneously from Mortimer Arbuckle and from his a.s.sailant, but in different tones of voice. "Do you then know Dike Powell?"
"Yes, I know him as Powell Dike, a forger, who fled from Peoria a dozen years ago. And what do you know of him?"
"I know him as a Wall street sneak--a man who was forever hanging around, trying to get information out of which he might make a few dollars. I have accused him of following me to the West. I am inclined to think he robbed me----"
"I did not," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Powell Dike, for such really was his name.
"I believe you," replied p.a.w.nee Brown. He had spoken to d.i.c.k and Rasco of this man. "But you know who did rob Mortimer Arbuckle," he went on, significantly.
"I--I--do not," answered Powell Dike, but his lips trembled.
"You lie, Dike. Now tell the truth."
p.a.w.nee Brown saw the manner of man he had to deal with and tapped his pistol. Instantly Powell Dike fell upon his knees.
"Don"t--don"t shoot me!" he whined. "I"ll tell all--everything. I am not dead positive, but--but I guess Louis Vorlange robbed Arbuckle."
p.a.w.nee Brown looked at Mortimer Arbuckle to see what effect this declaration might have upon d.i.c.k"s father. He saw the ex-stock broker start forward in amazement. Then he faltered, threw up his hands, and fell forward in a dead faint!
CHAPTER XXV.
GOOD NEWS FROM WASHINGTON.
"Fainted, by Jove!"
So spoke p.a.w.nee Brown as he sprang forward to Mortimer Arbuckle"s aid.
The man was as pale as the driven snow, and for the instant the great scout thought his very heart had stopped beating.
He raised Mortimer Arbuckle up and opened his collar and took off his tie, that he might get some air.
"Wot"s the row here?"
It was the voice of Peter Day, the backwoodsman who had agreed to take care of Arbuckle during his illness. He had followed the man out of the house to see that no harm might befall him.
"He has fainted," answered p.a.w.nee Brown. "Fetch some water, and hold that--hang it, he"s gone!"
p.a.w.nee Brown rushed to the barn door. Far away he saw Powell Dike running as though the old Nick was after him. A second later the rascal disappeared from view. The boomer never saw or heard of him again.
Between the great scout and p.a.w.nee Brown, Mortimer Arbuckle was once again taken to Day"s home and made comfortable.
"He insisted on taking a walk to-day," explained the backwoodsman. "I told him he couldn"t stand it. I reckon he"s as bad now as he ever was."