Deadwood Dick Jr. Branded: or, Red Rover at Powder Pocket.

"And my Joaquin will defend me."

"To the last drop of blood, you are right."

They were walking to where Deadwood Dick lay while talking thus.

As they came near they heard a slight groan, and the young woman gave a start and turned pale.

"Your shot was not so fatal, after all," said the Red Rover.

"He must be dying," said the young woman. "I aimed carefully at his head."

"And succeeded finely in stunning him. See there, you made a neat little crease just over the temple. You will have to finish the job."

"Heavens, no!"

"Why not?"

"I could not do it now, since you are out of danger; besides, he is down and cannot help himself."

Captain Joaquin drew a pistol and cocked it.

"No, no!" cried the woman, catching his arm. "You must not, you must not!"

"It must be his life or mine," said the Red Rover, grimly. "Better now, while he is unconscious. Out of the way a moment, Susana."

"No, no! You must not – you shall not! Did you not tell me that it was a fair fight, that he was giving you the fairest show you ever had in your life? For shame!"

Captain Joaquin flushed, and thrust his revolver back into its holster spitefully. He recalled the chance that Deadwood Dick had given him for his life, and was for the moment abashed, under the scornful gaze of this woman who loved him.

The next moment Deadwood Dick opened his eyes.

CHAPTER VIII.

CAPTAIN JOAQUIN'S RETREAT

Dick was dazed.

It was a moment before he could recall what had passed.

When he did so, he realized that the situation had greatly changed, and could not tell whether minutes or hours had passed.

But his mind quickly cleared, as a magic drop will clear a glass of clouded water, and he took in the situation and the new-comer upon the ground, and guessed the rest.

He remembered that he and his foe had not counted up to the number that was to have been the signal for them to fire, and hence some one else had taken a hand in the game. That Captain Joaquin had not fired the treacherous shot he was well aware.

The Red Rover stood motionless the last Dick remembered of him.

All this passed through Dick's mind in the few brief seconds before he spoke.

"So, you are alive, are you?" said Captain Joaquin. "It was a close call for you, Deadwood Dick."

"Who shot me?" asked Dick, feeling of his hurt.

"No matter who," was the reply. "It was not I, nor was it done by any order or consent of mine. I had no thought or intention of giving you anything but a fair fight."

"I am willing to believe that. It must have been some friend of yours, some one who feared for your life. Well, such is the fortune of war, and it appears that the tables have been turned. You now hold the joker, and I am in your power."

"There is no denying that."

"And what am I to expect?"

"You will have to dance to my tune, now, seeing that the tables have turned, as you say, and I am now the fiddler. I gave you warning of that."

"And I remember that I reminded you that should this thing occur, you would be honor bound to deal as honorably with me as I dealt with you, which you promised you would do."

"And he will keep his promise, sir," spoke up the young woman.

She looked at Captain Joaquin.

"Yes, of course," Captain Joaquin snarled. "At the same time, you must admit that self-preservation is the first law of nature. I must treat you as I would a rattlesnake, which, if I let it go, would turn and bite me."

"Is your former proposition still open?" asked Dick.

"What was that?"

"To join you."

"No, that is closed."

Dick smiled.

"I was not wrong, then, in my estimate of your earnestness when you made it, even if I did give you the benefit of the doubt," he said.

"That is a past question," said the Red Rover. "You have since assured me that nothing could tempt you to join me, but on the other hand that you intend to crush me."

"Let it pass," Dick waived.

Feeling by this time able to do so, he got upon his feet, but he had to lean against a boulder for support.

His head ached and was dizzy, and the shot had given him an indescribable numb feeling throughout his entire body. It had been about as close a call as he had ever experienced.

"You are now my prisoner," said the outlaw. "Susana, you secure his weapons – there they lie on the ground – and I will handcuff him again. I will put on that other pair, I think, seeing that you had the choice of selection before," to Dick.

"You have it all your own way, just now," said Dick. "I am not in it, so to say."

"You are right in it," the outlaw disputed.

"Well, no matter. If you are going to handcuff me, though, I hope you will dress the wound I have received."

The young woman opened her lips to say something, but withheld her words and looked to Captain Joaquin for the response. Dick believed that he had a friend in her.

His first thought had been that it was she who had fired at him. He was now in doubt on that point.

"Yes, we'll tie it up," the outlaw snapped.

Revolver in hand, he stepped forward and felt in Dick's jacket pocket for the remaining pair of handcuffs.

They were there ready to his hand, and he brought them forth and snapped them upon Dick's wrists. Resistance would have been useless, so Dick submitted.

"You have got me safe enough this time," Dick observed.

"Yes, I guess I have," was the response. "And I intend to keep you so, too."

"I do not blame you; I give you fair warning that if I escape it will be to open the warfare without quarter given or asked."

"I am well aware of that."

"Dealing more than fairly with you before, I am fair with you still, even with the tide against me, so you may know what to expect."

"You are a brave man, Deadwood Dick, no gainsaying that. What you have just said would be sufficient warrant for me to put you to the death at once, for my own protection."

"You have it in your power to do that, but you are honor bound to give me a chance for my life."

"Shall we carry out our duel?"

"I am not your match in condition, after this wound."

"Well, you may be in a day or two. Tie up his head for him, Susana, and we'll go home."

The young woman tore a handkerchief and made a temporary bandage, which she wound around Dick's head, covering the wound, and secured with pins.

"There, that will do until we get to the cabin," she said. "When we get there I will tie it up better and make it more comfortable for you. While we are foes, yet I can do that for you in mercy."

"You have not told me who shot me," said Dick.

The young woman flushed.

"Nor do we intend to," said Captain Joaquin. "Be satisfied that you are alive, and ask no questions."

"I am satisfied that my first guess was correct," said Dick. "What that guess was, you no doubt rightly conjecture, so we will say no more about it. I am, as you said, glad I'm alive."

"Shall we go to the house?" asked the young woman.

"I suppose we'll have to, with this prisoner on our hands, though I ought to return and look after that boodle – "

"Ah! I had forgotten that."

"Still, it is safely cached, and is safer, perhaps, than it would be at the cabin. Come, we'll go to the cabin."

"No one saw you cache it?" asked Susana.

"No one but this fellow."

"And you have got him secure enough. Better leave it where it is."

Captain Joaquin still had his revolver in hand, and having slung his rifle across his back he ordered Deadwood Dick to precede him along the gulch bottom.

Half an hour's walk and several turnings brought them at last into a glade where a cabin stood under the shade of some trees.

It was like an oasis in the rocky wilds.

A fertile little pocket in the midst of wildest surroundings, it was an ideal spot for such a retreat as Captain Joaquin required when too hotly pressed by the officers of the law.

Deadwood Dick had at last the secret of his rendezvous.

But at what a cost? He fully believed that it was the intention of the Red Rover that he should never leave the place alive.

At the same time Dick was determined that he would make his escape if given half an opportunity, and that he would eventually bring the infamous outlaw to justice.

The young woman opened the door of the cabin, and the outlaw ordered Dick to enter, which he did. He had no choice but to obey, for the present, though he had yet another card in reserve for future use as soon as the time was ripe for it.

Just what that card was will presently be shown.

CHAPTER IX.

A CHANCE FOR HIS LIFE

The interior of the cabin was home-like.

It showed evidences of a woman's care, and it was a most inviting retreat.

Having several apartments, it was more than a cabin in the generally accepted sense of the word, yet in outward appearance it was a cabin nevertheless, being of logs.

Well furnished, it displayed an abundance of fancy articles that spoke mutely of raids on the road and in towns to the north and south. There were books, pictures, and musical instruments, proof that this notorious road-agent had refinement of taste.

"Now, what are we going to do with him?" demanded Captain Joaquin.

"I'll try to make myself as little trouble to you as possible," said Dick. "Put me anywhere that is convenient."

"How will this room do?" asked the young woman, opening a door near at hand.

"Anywhere," said Dick.

"I was not speaking to you, sir," she snapped.

"Your pardon," said Dick, promptly.

"I suppose that will answer," growled the Red Rover. "He cannot possibly get out of there handcuffed, that is certain. In with you."

"Pray put yourselves to as little trouble as possible on my account," Dick politely requested as he stepped into the room. "When you are at leisure, Captain Joaquin, let me have an interview."

"To what purpose?" was demanded.

"You will, in justice, give me a chance for my life, of course."

"We will talk about that when I get ready," was the snarl. "For the present you remain here."

He closed the door with that, and Dick heard him secure it on the other side. The prince of detectives knew that he could look for little mercy at the hands of the Red Rover.

The room into which Dick had been thrust was light. There was one window, rather small and through which it would be impossible for the prisoner to climb with his hands secured as they were. It gave him a view of the side of the pocket opposite to the entrance.

There was a bed, a couple of chairs, and a stand, in the way of furniture.

Dick threw himself on the bed, for his head was beating and throbbing as if ready to split, and his wound was very painful, though slight.

He could hear Captain Joaquin and the woman talking in the main room of the cabin, but could not make out what they were saying. He heard also other voices from another direction.

These were the voices of two servants, a negress and a Mexican half-breed woman.

After a time the door opened and the negress came in.

She was rather old.

"Whur'm dat dar so' head ob you's?" she demanded in thick fashion. "I's gwine to dress hit fo' yo'."

"I guess you will find it on my shoulders yet, auntie," said Dick. "It was there the last I knew anything about it, anyhow. I hope you can ease the pain."

"Golly! I reckon I kin do dat dar, child. Yo' roll ober heah and let old Sal git a squint at it, and see ef I don't make it feel better. Golly! you did git a nasty one, shua 'nuff. One hair mo' to de norf-east, and yo' was a goner, shua!"

Dick had to smile at her quaint expressions. He had been in a light sleep, and felt better.

She had removed the bandage the young woman had put on.

Having brought with her a basin of water, she bathed the wound, and that done, dressed it afresh with some kind of pounded leaves.

"Have you any idea what is going to be done with me?" Dick inquired, while she was at work.

"Not a bit ob one, sah," she answered.

"How many are there in the house?" he asked.

"Only de captain and de missus, and us two old wimmin and yo'se'f."

"And when does the captain expect the others to come in? His men come here, I suppose."

"Some ob 'em does, but not many. Some be heah to-night, I 'pine."

"And some others will never come," said Dick.

"Dar, dar yo' am," the old negress said with something of pride in her tone. "Yo' jis' leab dat on dar an hour, and yo' won't know yo'se'f, shua. No pain kin stay whur dat am."

"I hope you are right, auntie. The kindest old lady I ever knew looked just like you. I hope you are right, and that you won't forget that I am here when the grub is passed around. I am a trifle hungry, and a drink of cold water would go particularly good just now."

"Yo' shall hab it, child, yo' jis' bet!"

She gathered up her basin and things and waddled out, for she was very fat, and in a few minutes returned with a pitcher of sparkling water.

A draught of that made Dick feel better immediately, and he thanked the woman in a way calculated to create a friendly feeling toward himself. He might need her service in some other direction.

In a little while Captain Joaquin entered.

Dick was feeling much better, and was sitting up when the outlaw made his appearance.

"Well, I have come to have that talk with you," he announced.

"Glad of it," said Dick, "I am lonesome."

"I have thought of a plan, and I am going to give you a chance for your life about as good as you gave me."

"Ah! that so?"

"You will admit that the chance you gave me was not a great big one, I suppose."

"It was just an even thing whether you killed me or I killed you, Captain Joaquin. I am willing to take the same chance again."

"But I am not. You have the reputation of being a dead-shot, Deadwood Dick, and you certainly felt confident of making cold meat of me when you offered me that generous chance for my life."

"I certainly meant to, unless you performed that office for me," was the cool admission.

"Well, I will give you just the same kind of a show."

"You will fight?"

"I said I would not. No, but I will give you an even chance for your life, as promised."

"Well, I accept it. What is it?"

"No matter whether you accept it or not, it is yours. Some of my men will be here during the night, and when they arrive I will carry out the plan."

"You do not mean to let me know what it is?"

"If it will do you any good, I will tell you."

"I am somewhat personally interested."

The outlaw laughed harshly.

"Yes, I guess you are, too," he said. "Well, it will be an even chance for your life, I promise you that," he added. "An equal number of white and of black beans will be put into a bag, and you will be required to draw one out. If it be white, you live; black, and you die at midnight."

Dick smiled grimly.

"Suppose I should draw a white one, does that give me my liberty?" he asked.

"Not at once. You will be taken away from here blindfolded, and detained ten days, at the end of which time you will be set free. Meantime, I will have pulled up stakes here and given you the slip."

"And you will give me no other chance whatever?"

"No, sir."

"All right, I'll have to take what is offered, of course, and be glad to get it, I suppose."

"You may be thankful for it, for, if you should draw the white, as you say, it will mean a deuce of a lot of trouble for me, and all because I feel bound to give you this chance."

"You are in honor bound to do that, no matter how small the chance may be, after the way I risked my life against yours, giving you the benefit of a doubt where I did not believe that a doubt existed at all. I'll expect you, then, when your men arrive."

"As soon as they get here; I will not keep you waiting."

CHAPTER X.

DICK IN A DEATH-TRAP

Deadwood Dick was again left alone.

A grim smile came over his face as he looked at the door that had just closed.

"It is a bitter pill for him to swallow, this giving me a chance for my life," he said to himself, "and I'll bet ten to one that I don't get it on the square."

The chances were that he would not.

"I was a fool, perhaps, to take the risk I did with the fellow, when the law was all on my side, but I took him so utterly by surprise that it did not seem exactly fair. The trouble is, my heart is entirely too big and too soft for the profession I am following."

It was not that; the trouble was, he was too honorable with the desperate characters with whom he had to deal.

But, that was Deadwood Dick's way.

The day waned and night came on at last. Dick had been well fed, by the old negress, and he felt grateful toward her.

He had seen nothing more of the young woman, but had heard her singing at different times during the afternoon. He had no reason to look for any assistance from her.

In the evening she and Captain Joaquin sang together in the main room, and it was singing well worthy attention.

It caused Dick to sigh for a life so misspent.

Finally, after some time, the door of the room Dick was in opened, and a flood of light streamed in.

Captain Joaquin entered, and Susana came as far as the doorway, where she stood framed in the light, clad in a gown that made her appear beautiful in the soft radiance.

"I suppose you are still here, eh?" said the outlaw.

He could not see at once, coming out of the lighted room.

"You might be sure of that," said Dick. "I would remain, even were I free, to listen to your singing."

"I have not come in for flattery nor praise, but to make sure that you are secure. Let me feel of those handcuffs before I retire for the night. My men may not be here till morning."

"Here they are; feel to your satisfaction."

He did so.

"No getting out of them," he said. "You are as safely my prisoner as I was yours once to-day, if not more so, Deadwood Dick."

"You need not remind me of it," said Dick.

"Well, good-night. If the men come, I will call you up, for some deeds are more agreeable in the dark than in the daylight."

"Yes, I suppose so."

"I mean, if you should have the ill luck to draw a black."

"I understand you, I guess, captain. You will find me here when you want me. I may be a little hard to awaken, but shake me hard and you will bring me out of it."

"You will be awakened, never fear."

The outlaw withdrew and closed and secured the door, and after a time the cabin was dark and silent.

A little longer, and Deadwood Dick rose silently to his feet.

Lifting his wrists to his face, he was occupied for some moments at something, and presently there was a faint click.

He removed the handcuffs from his wrists and put them into his jacket pocket, and took a key from his mouth, where it had long been concealed, and put it into the pocket of his vest.

Taking care to make no sound, he moved to the window and carefully worked the sash open to its widest extent.

That done, he put a chair under it and prepared to take leave.

He listened.

No sound was to be heard within.

Putting his head out he listened again, and all was silence the most profound.

Satisfied, he began to worm his body through the small opening, and presently had succeeded in getting his head and shoulders through, with his face upward.

Pausing a moment, he continued pressing through, and at last came as far as his knees, holding fast to the lower sash with his hands the while.

In that position he stopped a moment to rest and listen.

Hearing nothing, he let go with his hands and swung down, hanging by his legs, and his hands came in contact with the ground.

It was an easy thing, then, to let go with his legs and turn over and land upon his feet, and he did it with scarcely any more noise than a cat would have made.

He was without his weapons, but he was free.

Knowing the direction he must take, he set forward immediately, taking the greatest care that his steps were too light to be heard.

In a few moments he was out of hearing distance from the cabin, so far as his steps were concerned, and he then struck out at a rapid pace in the direction of the gulch.

He was going straight to the treasure cache to secure the treasure, and would then put all the distance possible between himself and the outlaws before daylight.

He could cache the money again, and in due time return with a posse and secure it.

"There will be something of a surprise when they find that I am gone, I imagine," he said to himself. "I would like to be there to see Captain Joaquin's face at the moment."

Not as a prisoner, however. He knew he would have no chance whatever for his life, or so, at any rate, he believed.

The night was dark, but there was enough light to see general outlines.

He pushed on, keeping to the trail as he remembered it, and he had taken good care to fix it well in his mind.

At length he came to the place where the duel was to have been fought but where he had been cut down by the bullet that had plowed the gash in his scalp.

Still on, and at last he came to the rough way that led to the top of the little peak on which the treasure had been cached, and here he had the hardest climb of all.

In daylight, it was not easy, but by night, and unfamiliar as he was with the ground, it was doubly difficult.

But it was at last accomplished, after an hour's work.

He stood on the plateau.

Sitting down on the edge of the table to rest, before proceeding further, a sound presently reached his ears.

It caused him a start, and he was on his feet instantly.

Again he heard it, and knew that he was not mistaken this time; it was voices.

With all haste he turned to the boulder and applied his shoulder to it at the point where Captain Joaquin had put his strength to it some hours before.

At first it did not move, but remembering how the Red Rover had put forth all his strength by surging against it, Dick now did the same, and presently the boulder moved and finally turned over.

Lighting a match, Dick looked into the cavity, and there was the bag of money exactly as it had been deposited.

He had it out in a second, and did not stop to replace the stone.

If he could get away from the top of the peak before discovered, he would have a chance.

It would take Captain Joaquin some time to climb up to look for the treasure, and while he was doing that Dick could be putting distance between himself and them.

What was the best of all, he would leave no trail that they could follow, having nothing but bare rock for his footing.

He readily imagined what had taken place at the cabin.

The men had come, and Captain Joaquin had entered the room to bring him forth and discovered him gone.

The first thought, naturally, would be for the money in the cache, and the Red Rover would lead the way thither with all speed – the very thing he was doing.

Moreover, they were even then nearer than Dick imagined, and just as he swung his legs over the edge of the plateau to begin the descent, the light of torches flashed out of the gulch below and his pursuers discovered him. With a wild shout, they opened fire upon him immediately.

Deadwood Dick was in a death-trap.

CHAPTER XI.

DICK'S ONLY DEFENSE

"Surrender!" called out Captain Joaquin.

"We'll consider that point a bit first," responded Dick.

He had drawn back out of range with considerable alacrity, for the bullets had come uncomfortably close.

"You will surrender, and that unconditionally, or we will riddle you with bullets!" was the threat. "You have now cancelled any obligation I may have been under."

"If I surrender at all, it will be under conditions," rejoined Dick. "We will make terms, or I will fight it out to the death."

"It will be to your death, then, not mine."

"Don't be too sure of that."

"You are not armed."

"No?"

"No, you are not."

"Do you want me to show you? You present a fine target there where you stand."

There were five men in the company, four besides the captain, and those four sprang to cover instantly, lest a shot might find them.