The next day the ranche was deserted save by the four
conspirators, who made preparations for the robbery
of Swanson’s money which was to take place that
night. The picture was tried until the proper
point for touching the hidden spring was found.
A supply of food was quietly secreted in a bag and
hid near the divide. Some heavy flour sacks made
of canvas were ripped open and suitable bags for carrying
the money were made from the pieces. All these
preparations were made without interruption or discovery,
and excepting a long ride which Scip made in the afternoon,
ostensibly for the purpose of exercising his horse
but really that he might again see the detectives
who were acting as cowboys, the day wore along without
any incident out of the ordinary way.
The robbery—Cummings’
narrow escape—the capture
of Moriarity—Jim Cummings
slips from the toils—Mr.
Pinkerton takes A hand.
The ranche was asleep. Heavy breathing and deep
snores from the sleeping-rooms indicated that slumber
had fallen on all the inmates. Swanson, who had
been repeatedly urged to drink by Cummings and Moriarity
and had accepted every invitation, was stretched on
his back a drunken mass of stupidity.
The stamping of the horses and distant movements of
the thousands of head of cattle alone broke the silence
of the night and the darkness had cast its pall over
the entire place.
In the large room Scip and the Doctor coolly and calmly
awaited the hour of their triumph. Fear was a
stranger to both, and as they quietly conversed in
whispered accents it would be difficult to believe
that they were about to engage in a most desperate
enterprise. In another room lay Cummings and
Moriarity, completely dressed. The former, with
his habitual sang froid, was whispering to Moriarity,
who, somewhat excited, was calmed by his companion’s
nonchalance, and as the hour for the work drew near
became like him. A stealthy step, noiseless as
an Indian’s, interrupted the conversation, and
the faint rap on the door gave them the long-looked-for
signal.
Creeping on their hands and knees down the hall past
Swanson’s door, through which his hoarse breathing
could be heard, the two men entered the room in which
the treasure was stored. The dying embers in the
fire-place created a dull glow, showing the Doctor
and Scip, booted and spurred, standing in the center
of the room. Softly Cummings approached the picture,
his finger found the spring through the canvas and,
pressing it hard, the frame swung slowly forward as
if reluctant to give up its precious charge.
Rapidly taking one bag after another from the cavity
Cummings passed them to Moriarity, who placed them
in the bags prepared for them.
The Doctor and Scip had gone outside and now brought
the four horses nearer the door. This they did
that they might have as little to do with the robbery
as possible, and they had so managed it that Jim and
Dan had done the actual theft.
