Buffalo Bill's Ruse; Or, Won by Sheer NerveIngraham, Prentiss
General
Buffalo Bill's Ruse; Or, Won by Sheer Nerve
Ingraham, Prentiss
Buffalo Bill, 1846-1917 -- Fiction; Dime novels
“All right,” said Deland, “here she goes. But this is a different
kind from that I throwed in the street. This kind you touch off like
a rocket, by lighting this end, when it shoots up into the air.
You’ll be surprised when you see it go. It’s my own invention; all
of ’em aire. And I think I’ve hit on a thing that’s goin’ to make my
fortune.”
The spy in the tree had grown so interested in all this that he had
nearly forgotten what he was there for.
He saw Deland set the small white object on its large end, on the
ground; and then he saw him light a match and touch the lighted match
to the sharp, or upper, end. Almost instantly there was a flash and a
roar.
Something that was blazing bright shot by him with a whistling
screech, so alarming and astonishing him that he emitted a yell, and
fell headlong out of the tree.
The bomb sailed on into the sky, sputtering like a rocket, as the
“pigeon” struck the ground.
Though Deland and Denton were both astonished by this tumble of the
man out of the tree, they were not too surprised to act promptly.
Deland sprang on the man, and bore him backward to the ground, as
the fellow tried to rise. He yelled for Denton to come to his aid,
and this Denton did with such alacrity that he seemed not to be very
weak, after all.
As for the spy, the fall had knocked the breath out of him. This,
with his astonishing tumble from the tree, and the thing that had
preceded it, made him an easy victim. Almost before he knew it,
Deland had him by the throat and was choking him, and the younger man
was also throwing himself on him, helping to hold him down.
The rockety thing that had flashed into the sky exploded there,
emitting a big puff of white smoke that sprayed out and began to form
what was in shape a small cloud.
“Let up!” the spy gurgled, as he felt Deland’s fingers dig into his
throat.
However, Deland did not let up until young Denton had secured one
of the horsehair lariats, and from it had made cords and bound the
prisoner.
By this time the “pigeon” was almost black in the face and half
senseless.
Deland turned his attention to the sky, and to that floating smoke
cloud, as soon as he could do so. Just then a few drops of rain
spattered in his upturned face.
It was but a natural phenomenon, of course, but Deland was ready to
ascribe that spatter of rain to the effect of his exploding rain
bomb. He yelled with glee, and stretched out his hands, calling on
Denton to witness that it had actually rained.
“Denton,” he cried, “if I should send up enough of them things, I
could drownd the world, same’s it was in ther days of Noah. Did you
notice that beautiful sprinkle?”
Denton was paying attention to the prisoner.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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