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Updated: May 16, 2025
Louis Vorlange, you are playing a deep part but you cannot make me swallow your statements about my father." "Do you want me to expose him?" "We'll see about that later. Rasco and I will certainly try to show you up for what you really are." "Very well," blustered Vorlange. "Your father is a murderer, and he shall swing for it unless you keep your mouth shut.
"Thet's a whopper made outer the hull cloth, Stillwater. Yer war going ter shoot me an' I'm a-goin' ter be jess as accommodatin'," and on the sly Rasco winked at Dick who was much relieved to think the boomer did not really intend to carry out his blood-thirsty design. The face of Stillwater grew as white as a sheet and he trembled from head to foot. "Don't! don't you do it!
The rascal was more than three-quarters knocked out and lay for several minutes helpless. "I owe you one fer that, Dick Arbuckle!" cried Rasco, gratefully. "Yer came in the nick o' time!" Now the peril was over the boomer dropped back into his own peculiar manner of speech. "I am glad I happened this way," returned Dick, as he drew a long breath.
"I won't argy the p'int!" roared Rasco. "I know you, Vorlange, and so does Dick here. You robbed and nearly murdered thet boy's father!" At these words Vorlange staggered back as though struck a blow. "Who says I I did that?" he faltered. "I say so." "And so do I," put in Dick, boldly. "We'll have a nice story to tell when we are brought out for examination, I'll tell you that."
Rasco and Brown have been looking over the trails leading to Oklahoma. They are bound to outwit the United States cavalry, for the boomers have more right to that land than the cattle kings, and right is always might in the end." "Especially wid Pawnee on the end o' it, Dick.
"It is Jack Rasco!" cried Vorlange. "Boys, this is Pawnee Brown's right-hand man!" "I know him!" growled Tucker. "Rasco, you're in a box now and don't you forget it. You've been spying on us." "Make him a prisoner," said another of the cavalrymen, an under officer. "If he is a spy we'll have to take him back to the fort and turn him over to the captain."
"Might as well go back," he said to Dick, then as he saw the boy start he continued: "What's up? Do yer see anything of her?" "No, Rasco. But look at that man, the fellow sitting down by the corner table in the reading room, he with the brown hat." "I see him. What of him?"
"Bah! I am not afraid of him. He had me foul over to the Golden Pick, but I'll be careful when next we meet. But I'll not waste time with you here, Rasco. I've got you alone and 'dead men tell no tales." "Alone?" Jack Rasco began to smile. "You're mistaken. Look behind you." Stillwater started, but did not look back. "That's an old dodge, Rasco, but you can't work it off on me.
"It is none of your business, Rasco," muttered the spy. "I told the boy; that's enough." Dick breathed hard. Part of that mystery of the past was out at last. His father was accused of murder Vorlange held the evidence against him. Like a flash came back to him several things he had almost forgotten.
"That was Yellow Elk," said Rasco. "But whar is he now?" All the white men turned quickly, looking up and down the cave. It was useless. Yellow Elk had disappeared. "He must not escape!" cried Pawnee Brown. "I have an account to settle with him for starting that fire." "But whar is Nellie?" asked Rasco, impatiently, looking around with a falling face.
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