As for Herr Schmidt, he was troubled in more than one way. First, with his portly figure and superfluous load of flesh, he found locomotion, especially in the forest, quite difficult. Then again he had with him three hundred dollars in gold, which he was very reluctant to part with. He felt that they would all be taken from him, and what to do then he did not know. It would take money to go on, it would take money to go back. On the whole the prospect of his seeing again the fair Katrine, who, good woman, was physically a very good match for her Johann, was indeed small. So he kept groaning as he walked, and indulged, from time to time, in little ejaculations expressive of his unhappy frame of mind.
Tom and Gates walked on together.
“I wonder if it’s much farther,” said Gates. “Our German friend doesn’t look happy.”
Tom laughed.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t be, if I had such a load to carry.”
“And if you had a Katrine and kinder at home.”
“Just so. But I haven’t. How is it with you?”
“Oh, I’m an independent bachelor, roaming the world for a living. I’m like a cat. However I’m tossed up, I’m sure to land on my feet.”
“Then I hope I shall be like a cat, too.”
“You don’t seem very much disturbed.”
“No. It’s my first adventure, and I haven’t much to lose.”
“So with me. Well, Morton, how goes it? You look as if you were attending a funeral.”
“Will there be a funeral?” interrupted the terrified Dutchman. “Oh, Gott in Himmel! they will not kill us?”
“No, mein herr, I think not. They’ll only take all our money.”
Mr. Schmidt groaned piteously, and for the fiftieth time execrated his folly in selling out a lager bier saloon, in which he was making money, to start in quest of the mines. Ah, little did the plump Katrine and the children, waiting eagerly to hear of his success, dream that he was even now in the clutches of robbers.
But the longest journey has an ending, and this was not a very long journey.
They reached a rude wooden building, backed by a precipitous elevation. There was nothing peculiar in its appearance, except that it had no windows. In fact, the main wonder was, that in this lonely place there should be any building at all.
“Halt, gentlemen,” said the captain, “it is here that we stop.”
“Is this our hotel?” asked Tom lightly.
“Yes,” said the captain, relaxing his stern features with a smile. “Shall I announce to you the rules of this house?”
“What are they?”
“Payment in advance.”
Morton’s face changed, and the Dutchman looked unhappy.
“I hope your bill won’t be unreasonable,” said Gates.
“Not at all. We shall not ask more than you have.”
“Thank you; you are very considerate.”
“We’ll begin with you, then,” said the captain, addressing Gates.
“Oh, I’m a poor devil. I haven’t much.”
“Produce what you have.”
Gates took out his purse, which proved to contain a hundred and fifty dollars in gold.
“Is that all?”
“Every cent.”
“Search him.”
Two members of the band advanced and searched him, but nothing more was to be found.
“You are an honest fellow. I won’t take all. Here!” and the robber returned twenty dollars of the sum taken.
“Thank you!” said Gates, with a little surprise. “Really, for a robber, you are very polite and honorable.”
“Now it’s your turn, young bantam,” was addressed to Tom.
Our hero produced all his money, as was shown by the subsequent search.
“Good!” said the captain. “Here are twenty for you. It will take you to the mines. Now, old man, it’s your turn.”
Herr Schmidt would have done well to profit by the example of his companions, and surrendered what he could not retain. But it was too much for his equanimity. He brought out twenty-five dollars, and stoutly asseverated that it was all he had. But the captain was too sharp for him. A skillful examination disclosed eleven times as much more.
“You were richer than you thought,” said the captain, in a sarcastic tone.
“It is all I had. I am ruined!” exclaimed Johann piteously. “Good robber, give me back half.”
“Not one penny!” returned the chief emphatically. “You tried to defraud me, and you merit no consideration at my hands. You were not like these gentlemen,” and he nodded approvingly in the direction of Gates and Tom.
Herr Schmidt wrung his hands and protested that he was ruined, and that his Katrine and children would all starve.
“Let them cook you, then,” said the captain. “That will keep them alive for a month.”
But even this suggestion did not mitigate the grief of the unhappy Teuton, who sunk down on a stump near by and bewailed his fate.
Morton was reserved to the last. He was wise enough to give up all his gold, though he had considerably more than either of his companions. But he also was compelled to submit to a search. No money was found, but the belt was discovered.
“What is that?” demanded the captain.
“A belt,” faltered Morton.
“What is in it?”
“Papers—no money, I assure you,” hurriedly answered Morton.
“If they are papers, we must see them,” said the captain.
“They would be of no value to you,” said Morton quickly. “They are business papers.”
“I must see them,” said the captain suspiciously.
Tom had pricked up his ears when he first heard the papers mentioned. His heart beat quick. Were these the securities of which he was in search? He believed so, and waited anxiously to ascertain. Yet, even if they should prove to be so, how would he be the better off?
He bent his eyes eagerly upon the robber-captain as he opened the belt and revealed the contents.