Uncle Sam's Boys in the Ranks: or, Two Recruits in the United States Army

"For what, Overton?"

"It doesn't seem likely, sir, that these scoundrels have been living in the open air. And they must have some place for concealing their booty."

"Quite right, Overton. Corporal Cotter, take Overton, Terry and two other men and make a thorough search of the rocks and ground hereabouts."

Hal turned swiftly to the man in whose eyes he had seen that gleam of satisfaction the moment before. Now the fellow was scowling.

"That was a hit," Hal murmured to himself. "The rascals have some hiding place around here."

"Now we'll divide the ground up in small squares," announced Corporal Cotter as he led his picked men away. "We'll search each square minutely, so that no little patch may be overlooked."

"Won't it be best, Corporal," hinted Hal, "to start where the thieves were when the fighting began?"

"Just the ticket, Overton," nodded the corporal.

So the search began at that point. Nor did it last long, for Hal, thrusting with the butt of his rifle, poked a large bush partly aside exclaiming:

"I guess you'd better come here, Corporal," the recruit called.

As Cotter came running to the spot Private Overton displayed a hole rising some three feet above the grounds. It had been covered by the foliage of the bush.

"Looks like the mouth of a cave, doesn't it?" Hal asked, with gleaming eyes.

"A whole lot," agreed Corporal Cotter, producing a pocket electric flashlight. "You can follow me in, Overton, if you like."

Corporal and private crawled into the hole. They did not have to go more than six feet before they stood in a stone-walled chamber of considerable size. Roughly, it appeared to be an apartment of about twenty by thirty-five feet.

"Beds, tables, chairs, lamps, grub," enumerated Corporal Cotter, looking about him gleefully. "Take the lamp, Overton. I'm going back to call the captain."

Less than two minutes later Captain Cortland stood in the rockbound chamber.

"Well, this is a place!" whistled the officer in surprise.

"This chest is locked, sir," reported Hal, who had been improving his time by looking about. "Do you think it may contain loot. Captain?"

"There's an ax," nodded Cortland, glancing around him. "Corporal, just try the ax on the chest – carefully."

With a few blows Cotter had the chest open. Captain Cortland knelt by the wooden chest to inspect.

"This is clothing on top," he announced. "But – ah, what does this look like?"

In the middle of the chest's contents he had come upon carefully wrapped packages of jewelry, watches and the like.

"We won't go any further just now," declared the captain. "But we'll take back this chest with us."

On the return to Fort Clowdry the prisoners, though captured on the military reservation, were turned over to the civil officers. Even Tip Branders and the wounded chief of the band were taken to Clowdry for care by the town authorities.

The chest was found to have contained all the stolen jewelry. The money that had been taken on the same raids, however, was not found. Plainly the thieves had used the money for the needs of the moment.

Hal and Noll, on their return, reported promptly to the commander of the guard, for they still belonged to the guard detail.

"Queer, ain't it?" asked Private Bill Hooper that morning in Hupner's squad room as the men were washing up before morning mess call.

"What is?" demanded Private Hyman.

"Why, that kid, Overton, knew one of the gang – one, at least – all the time. Yet Overton shot his old-time friend. And Overton knew all along where the bunch was hiding. And did you hear how neatly he led Corporal Cotter right to the cave of the gang? Now if that don't prove – "

Hyman promptly knocked Hooper down.

"It proves, Bill," growled Hyman, "that you're so fond of lying that you don't know the truth when you hear it."

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

TIP BRANDERS recovered.

So did the leader of the gang with which Tip had foolishly cast his evil lot down in Pueblo, when he had first come west after robbing his mother. The man wounded in the neck had been at no time in a dangerous condition.

Not much sympathy need be wasted on Tip. He had chosen his own place in life, and had filled it.

Before Tip was out of the local hospital, and in his cell in jail, his mother, who had read of his fate in a newspaper in her home town, joined her son in the town of Clowdry.

She stood by her son to the last, until the testimony of officers and soldiers from Fort Clowdry had sent him away to prison for ten years.

At first, on his recovery, Tip Branders had been inclined to be boastful. He had shown his boldness by his thieving exploits and by daring to face the steady rifle fire of Private Hal Overton, United States Army. But when the sentence of the court came upon him Tip broke down. He wept and could hardly stand. He implored the judge to lessen his sentence. All the braggadocio in him ran out as rapidly as the sawdust from a punctured doll.

The other members of the band received equally severe sentences, for all had been engaged in battle with troops who represent law and order.

From that trial Hal and Noll journeyed to Denver. Major Davis, of the Seventeenth Cavalry, also traveled from his post, for the trial of the baffled men who had attempted to rob the United States mail was on in the United States District Court. These men, too, were sent away to the penitentiary for long terms.

The writer of the anonymous note against Hal had so far escaped detection.

"We've been getting a lot of travel lately," smiled Hal as the two chums trudged down the road from the railway station to Fort Clowdry on their return from Denver.

"All we're going to have for a while, I hope," returned Noll Terry quietly. "I'd sooner put in my time learning soldiering."

"Not tired of the army yet, Noll?"

"I never shall be, nor you either, Hal, as long as we're young enough to serve."

"What I dread," mused Hal, "is the time when if we live to that age, we shall be too old for the Army, and will have to go away and settle down in some town as retired men of the Army."

"That will be time to die, won't it?" asked Noll, so solemnly that Private Overton laughed merrily.

"That time is a long way off, Noll Terry. Let's see; we're eighteen now, and a fellow doesn't have to be retired, for age, until he's sixty-two."

"Forty-four years," figured Noll. "Oh, well, a fellow ought to be able to have a deal of fun in that number of years."