Chapter X: Besieged

So deadly had been the aim of the troopers as they poured their volleys of lead at the horses dashing down the mountain that the animals were quickly stopped in their mad run.

"Close in! Be careful, Red is a dead shot!" yelled the manhunters as they leaped and scrambled over the rocks, hurrying to gain the spot where the horses had dropped before the fugitives, whom they supposed to have been riding the animals, could have the chance to seek cover in the underbrush.

The flare of the torches made the mountainside almost as light as day.

In the excitement, the manhunters poured volleys of lead at everything that moved, determined not to let the outlaw escape again.

But as the foremost of the pursuers gained the side of the disabled horses, they knew that they had been outwitted by the resourceful Rogers.

"He's fooled us!" yelled a trooper.

"What makes you think so?" demanded Lieutenant Fox, who was the first officer to reach the scene.

"Because the horses and their blankets are riddled with bullets," replied one of his men. "No person could have been on their backs and have lived."

"Then where _is_ Rogers?" returned the young officer.

"The old Nick only knows," grunted a veteran. "One thing's certain, though." And then the trooper grew silent, as if repenting of his words.

"What is certain? Why don't you speak, man, instead of standing there like a dummy?" flashed Fox.

"I didn't want to seem to be meddling, sir," rejoined the trooper. "But I was going to say that Red can't be far away or he wouldn't have resorted to the ruse of turning his horses loose."

"Then get busy and find him. Don't waste precious time standing round here," snapped the lieutenant. And at his words, the group about the fallen horses melted away and disappeared among the rocks and underbrush, the men's course being indicated by the glow from their torches.

A moment the young officer stood, debating whether he should go with his men or report to the colonel, and before he had made up his mind, the members of the sheriff's posse who had caused the outlaw to abandon his horses, came upon him.

"Who are you?" demanded the lieutenant.

"We came with Sheriff Black," replied one of them.

"Well, get into the brush. Don't dally round here. Rogers has tricked us."

"Ain't that just like him?" exclaimed another member of the posse. "I told Black, while we were waiting up the trail yonder, that I'd bet Red would get away, and now he's done it. One or a thousand men, it don't make no difference to him. If he has any chance at all, he can wriggle through them. Now I----"

But the young officer, reminded by the fellow's words of the manner in which the outlaw had eluded him during the day, turned on his heel and was walking away, when a shout sounded from ahead.

"This way! This way!" yelled a voice. "Red's gone this way! Here's the body of a man he's killed!"

Instantly the troopers who had been scouring the mountainside surrounding the horses gave up their efforts and hastened up the trail.

"That's Faro Pete," announced Sheriff Black, after an examination of the body. "I'd rather have lost a dozen other men than him."

"Why?" demanded Captain Smythe, forcing his way through the group about the man whom the outlaw had killed.

"Because, as a member of Red's old gang, he knew all his haunts. When he heard where the cuss had been located, he 'lowed that Red would probably make for the Old Stockade, and if he found the trails cut off, for the 'Breathing Cave.' Pete was the only man, so far as I know, who was ever with Red in the Cave. And now he's gone and we're likely to be gray headed before we can find out how to get into it."

"Breathing Cave? Breathing Cave?" repeated the captain. "What in the world are you talking about, man? Who ever heard of a Breathing Cave?"

"I have, sir," replied a voice.

In surprise, the officers and sheriff turned toward the speaker and beheld Alkali.

"Then tell us what it is and where it is," commanded Smythe.

"It's a crack in a rock, barely large enough for a man to squeeze into, and when you stand beside it, you can feel it breathe."

"Feel a rock breathe," sneered Lieutenant Fox, contemptuously. "Have you been drinking, Alkali?"

"No, sir. What I'm telling you about that Cave is the truth. And I can prove it."

"How?" demanded Smythe.

"By taking you to it."

"You know where it is?" exclaimed the sheriff and the officers, in pleased surprise.

"Sure I do. You ain't more than three rods from it this very minute."

"Then take us to it," ordered the captain. "Beyond a doubt, that's where the man we're after is hiding. Fox, go down and report to the colonel all we have learned. You might suggest that it would be well for him to come up here. He'll probably wish to take charge of the prisoner."

With no attempt to conceal his disappointment and displeasure at being sent by his superior to carry a message to the colonel that might just as well have been entrusted to a private, especially when the capture of the notorious outlaw who had led them such a merry chase seemed imminent, the lieutenant turned on his heel without replying, starting down the mountainside at a run.

Shouting and yelling in jubilation at the thought they would soon have the notorious outlaw securely bound and on his way back to the jail from which he had escaped, leaving a trail of Corpses behind him, the troopers swarmed after the half-breed.

"I wish you'd hold 'em back, sir," exclaimed Alkali to the captain, who with several other officers was following close at the scout's heels.

"Why?"

"Because I want to examine the entrance to the Cave to find if Red is really in there. But if them troopers, crowd round, they'll spoil any tracks there may be."

Realizing that Alkali spoke sound sense, the captain faced about.

"No man can come nearer the Cave than twenty feet until I give permission," he shouted.

Amazed at the command, the troopers asked one another what new development could have transpired. But their curiosity was quickly allayed by the sight of the half-breed creeping about on his hands and knees.

Interest in the scout's discoveries was forgotten for the moment by the officers as they felt a sudden outpouring of air, followed several seconds later by a sucking downward of the atmosphere.

"What in the world can that be?" they asked one another.

"It's the 'Breathing Cave,'" grunted Alkali; in explanation.

"It sure is just like a person breathing," asserted Captain Smythe, after he and several of his companions had dropped to their knees near the crevice in the rock and felt the outward and inward rush of air against their faces.

"How did you know about it, Alkali?" demanded another officer.

"Injuns."

"Did they give any explanation of the mystery?"

"Some did, some didn't."

Further discussion of the wonder was prevented for the moment, at least, by the arrival of Colonel Edwards.

"Have you got the devil cornered, Smythe?" he asked of the officer.

"I believe so, sir."

"Believe? Don't you _know_?" thundered his superior.

"No, sir. I'm waiting for Alkali to determine whether Rogers has entered that opening in the rock or not."

"Well, I guess the surest way to put an end to him is for the earth to swallow him," chuckled the colonel. "What do you find, Alkali?"

"He's in there, and there are two others with him. I----"

"Any sign of the three Mounted Scouts they captured?" interrupted Captain Smythe.

"They was dragging something with them. You can see where the dirt over there is scraped. But whether it's the Scouts, I can't say, sir."

"We'll probably find their bodies somewhere down the trail," opined the colonel. "It isn't likely they would have bothered with them when we were pressing them so close. But you're sure Red Rogers is in there?"

"Yes, sir."

"Any other way to get into the Cave?"

"Not as I know of, sir."

"How big is it?"

"Never was inside."

"Well, there's one sure thing. Rogers and his companions can't find any food in there."

"Captain Smythe, you will pick thirty-men and stay here, camped about the opening to this Cave, until you either starve Rogers out or to death."