[Pg 78]
As the men were hesitating, old Joe Crowfoot suddenly appeared.
"Com'ron Bill he come!" said the Indian. "There be a heap fight in a minute! Come quick!"
"Come on!" cried Jim Tracy.
And the men rushed forth to meet and repulse Cimarron Bill and his gang.
[Pg 79]
Frank was about to follow, when Big Monte clutched weakly at his foot.
"Pard," said the ruffian, "I may never git another chanct to say it. You're the white stuff! They'd shore hanged me a whole lot but for you. Now I has a chanct to die comfortable an' respectable like. Thankee, Frank Merriwell."
"Don't mention it!" said Frank. "Die as comfortably as you can. I have to go out to help the boys shoot a few of your pards."
"I ain't got northin' agin' them," said Monte; "but I wishes ye luck. They're in the wrong, an' you're right."
At this moment the sound of shooting outside startled Merry, and, without another word, he rushed forth, leaving Monte lying there.
Cimarron Bill had counted on capturing the mine by strategy and meeting with very little resistance. When Frank had returned and ridden into the valley Bill knew that it would not do to delay longer, and he had led his men in swift pursuit.
But old Joe Crowfoot, faithful as ever, had prepared the miners for the attack; so it came about that[Pg 80]the ruffians were met with a volley of lead that dismayed and demoralized them. This was not the kind of work they relished.
Thus it happened that Frank Merriwell came hurrying forth, only to find the enemy already repulsed and retreating in disorder.
The starlight showed two men and a horse stretched on the ground, while another horse was hobbling about. At a distance down the valley the mine-seizers were fleeing.
"They git heap hot time!" said old Joe, in Frank's ear.
"What?" cried Merry. "Have they quit it as quick as this?"
"It looks that way, sir," said Jim Tracy.
"And I didn't get into the game."
"You was too busy defending Big Monte. I hopes you pardons me, sir, but I thinks that was a mistake."
"You have a right to think whatever you like, but I object to your freedom in expressing yourself."
This was plain enough, and it told Tracy that Frank would not tolerate any criticism from him.
"It's your own game," muttered Tracy, turning away.
"I see you have dropped two of those chaps."
"Yes."
Revolver in hand, Frank walked out toward the spot where the two figures lay. He was followed by Crowfoot and several others.
The first man was stone-dead.
[Pg 81]
The next proved to be the Mexican, Pinto Pede, who was sorely wounded.
"That cursed greaser!" growled one of the men. "Give me lief to finish him, Mr. Merriwell!"
He placed the muzzle of a pistol against Pede's head.
Frank knew that a word from him would send the Mexican into eternity.
"None of that!" he said sternly and commandingly. "Pick the fellow up and take him in yonder. He may not be shot up too bad to recover."
But they drew back.
"Sir," said Tracy, "I don't opine thar is a man here but what thinks hisself too good to be after handlin' the onery greaser."
"And you would let him remain here to die?"
"I reckons that's correct."
In another moment Merry had stooped and lifted the slender body of Pinto Pede in his arms. With long strides, he bore the Mexican toward the building in which Big Monte lay.
The miners looked on in amazement.
"Waal, he's the limit!" said Jim Tracy, in disgust.
Crowfoot followed Frank, who took Pede into the room and placed him beside Big Monte. The redskin stopped at the door, where he stood on guard.
"Well, Pede," said Frank, "we'll examine and see just how hard you're hit."
The Mexican was shot in the side. At first it seemed that the wound might be fatal, but, examining[Pg 82]with the skill of an amateur surgeon, Frank made a discovery.
"She struck a rib, Pede," he said. "She followed around and came out here. Why, you're not in such a bad way! You may pull through this thing all right. You'd be almost sure to if you had the right sort of treatment."
The Mexican said nothing, but certain it is that he was bewildered when he found Merry dressing the wound. This Frank did with such skill as he possessed, making the fellow comfortable.
Big Monte had watched all this, and he spoke for the first time when the job was done.
"I reckon," he said, "that they don't raise galoots like you ev'rywhere. Why, it shore was up to you to finish the two o' us! Why you didn't do it is something I don't understand none at all. An' you keeps them gents from takin' me out an' swingin' me. You shore air plenty diffrunt from any one I ever meets up with afore!"
Old Joe Crowfoot had been watching everything. The Indian understood Frank not at all, but whatever "Strong Heart" did Joe was ready to stand by.
"Don't worry over it," laughed Merry. "I owe you something, Monte."
"I fail to see what."
"Why, you warned me that Bill and the others meant to jump the mine to-night."
"Did I?"
"Sure thing."
[Pg 83]
"I don't remember. But I tried ter shoot ye. Bill said you was ter be shot ef you comes a-hustlin' back afore he gits around to doin' his part o' the job."
"You got the worst of it in that little piece of shooting, so we'll call that even."
"If you says even, I'm more'n willin'."
"Now," said Frank, "I'm going out with the men to watch for a second attack from Bill. I have to leave you, and some of the boys may take a fancy to hang you, after all. That bein' the case, I don't want to leave you so you won't have a show. Here, take this gun. With it you may be able to defend yourself until I can reach you. But don't shoot any one if you can help it, for after that I don't believe even I could save you."
So he placed a revolver in the hand of Big Monte and went out, leaving the wounded ruffians together.
When Frank was gone the two wounded wretches lay quite still for some time. Finally Pinto Pede stirred and looked at Big Monte.
"How you get shot?" he asked.
"The gent who jest went out done a part o' the job," said Monte, in reply.
"Heem—he shoot you?"
"Yes."
"Ha! You lik' da chance to shoot heem?"
"Waal, I had it, but I missed him. He fooled me a whole lot, fer he jest kept still behind his hoss, what I had salted, an' then he got in at me with his own bit o' lead."
[Pg 84]
"That mak' you hate heem! Now you want to keel heem?"
"Oh, I don't know! I don't opine I'm so mighty eager."
"Beel says he gif one thousan' dol' to man who shoot Frank Mer'well."
"That's a good lot."
"Beel he do it."
"No doubt o' that, I reckons."
"Mebbe you an' I haf the chance."
"Waal, not fer me! I quits! When a chap keeps my neck from bein' stretched arter all I has done ter him—waal, that settles it! I opines I has a leetle humanity left in me. An' he thought I was dyin', too. I kinder thought so then, but I'm managin' ter pull along. Mebbe I'll come through."
The face of Pinto Pede showed that he was thinking black thoughts.
"Gif me da chance!" he finally said. "You no haf to do eet. Gif me da chance. I do eet, an' we divvy da mon'. Ha?"
"Don't count me into your deviltry."
"No count you?"
"No."
"What matter? You no too good. I see you shoot man in back."
"Mebbe you did; but he hadn't kept me from bein' lynched."
"Bah! Why he do eet? You fool! He want to turn you ofer to law."
[Pg 85]
"Mebbe you're right; I don't know."
"You safe yourself if you help keel him."
"Looker hyer, Pede, I'm a low-down onery skunk; but I reckon thar's a limit even fer me. I've struck it. This hyer Frank Merriwell made me ashamed a' myself fer the fust time in a right long time. I know I'm too onery to reform an' ever be anything decent, even if I don't shuffle off with these two wounds. All the same, I ain't the snake ter turn an' soak pisen inter Merriwell, an' you hear me. Others may do it, but not Big Monte."
"Bah! All right! You not get half! Yes; you keep steel, you get eet."
"What are you driving at?"
"Wait. Mebbe you see. All you haf to do is keep steel."
"Waal, I'm great at keepin' still," said Monte.
It was not far from morning when Merriwell re-entered that room.
Pinto Pede seemed to be sleeping, but Big Monte was wide-awake.
"Hello!" exclaimed Frank. "So you're still on these shores. I didn't know but you had sailed out."
"Pard, I opine mebbe I may git well enough to be hanged, after all," grinned the big ruffian.
"Possibly you may," said Frank. "And the chances are you would be if I were to leave you alone long enough. I heard some of the boys talking. They contemplate taking you out and doing things to you after I'm asleep. But they did not reckon that I would[Pg 86]come here to sleep, where they cannot get their hands on you without disturbing me."
"That was right kind of you," said Monte. "How's Bill?"
"I think that Bill has had his fill for the present. Indications are that he has left the valley with his whole force, and we are not looking for further trouble from him in some time to come."
"Bill shore found hisself up against the real thing," said Monte.
Frank placed a blanket near the door, wrapped himself in it, and was soon sleeping soundly.
Big Monte seemed to fall asleep after a time.
Finally the Mexican lifted his head and listened. He looked at Monte, and then at Frank. Seeming to satisfy himself, he gently dropped aside his blanket and began creeping across the floor, making his way toward Merriwell. He moved with the silence of a serpent.
Now, it happened that Big Monte was not asleep, although he had seemed to be. The Mexican had not crept half the distance to Frank when the big man turned slightly, lifted his head, and watched. As the creeping wretch drew nearer to the sleeping youth the hand of Big Monte was gently thrust out from the folds of his blanket.
Pede reached Frank, and then arose to his knees. Suddenly he lifted above his head a deadly knife, which he meant to plunge into the breast of the unconscious sleeper.
[Pg 87]
At that instant a spout of fire leaped from something in the hand which Big Monte had thrust from beneath the blanket, and with the crashing report of the revolver Pede fell forward across the body of his intended victim, shot through the brain!
Frank was on his feet in an instant.
"What does this mean?" he cried, astounded, stirring the body of the Mexican with his foot.
"You gave me a gun," said Big Monte, "so that I might defend myself. It came in handy when I saw Pede gittin' keerless with his knife an' goin' fer to cut you up."
"Was that it?" exclaimed Frank. "Why, he was going to stab me! And you saved my life by shooting him!"
"Which mebbe makes us some nearer square than we was," said Monte, "as you saved my life a leetle time ago."
[Pg 88]
Frank leaned against the door-jamb of his cabin and looked out into the sunny valley. To his ears came the roar of the stamp-mills of the mine, which was in full blast. Before him lay the mine-buildings about the mouth of the tunnel, from which rich ore was being brought to be fed to the greedy stamps.
It was now something like ten days since the ruffians under Cimarron Bill tried to carry the mine by assault.
Frank had remained watchful and alert, well knowing the nature of Cimarron Bill and believing he would not be content to abandon the effort thus easily. Still the second attack, which he had so fully expected, had not come.
He was wondering now if the ruffians had given it up. Or had they been instructed by the trust to turn their attention to the San Pablo Mine?
If the latter was the case, Frank felt that they would find the San Pablo prepared. He had taken pains before hastening to the Queen Mystery to fortify his mine in Mexico, leaving it in charge of a man whom he fully trusted.
Nevertheless, Frank felt that it would be far better were he able to personally watch both mines at the[Pg 89]same time. Just now he was meditating on the advisability of leaving the Queen Mystery and journeying southward to the San Pablo.
As he thought this matter over, something seemed to whisper in his ear that such an action on his part was anticipated by the enemy, who were waiting for him to make the move. Then, while he was away, they would again descend on the Queen Mystery.
Again the old Indian, Crowfoot, had disappeared, after his usual manner, without telling Frank whither he was going. Merry knew he might be in the vicinity, or he might be hundreds of miles away. Still, Joe had a remarkable faculty of turning up just when he was most needed.
Merry turned back into the little cabin, leaving the door open. He had been feeling of his chin as he stood in the doorway, and now he thought:
"A shave will clean me up. Great Scott! but I'm getting a beard! This shaving is becoming a regular nuisance."
Indeed, Frank was getting a beard. Every day it seemed to grow heavier and thicker, and he found it necessary to shave frequently to maintain that clean appearance in which he so greatly delighted.
Frank could wear old clothes, he could rough it with joy, he minded neither wind nor weather, but personal cleanliness he always maintained when such a thing was in any manner possible. To him a slovenly person was offensive. He pitied the man or boy who did not know the pleasure of being clean, and he knew[Pg 90]it was possible for any one to be clean, no matter what his occupation, provided he could obtain a cake of soap and sufficient water.
So Frank was shaving every day when possible. He now turned back into the cabin and brought out his shaving-set. On the wall directly opposite the open door hung a small square mirror, with a narrow shelf below it.
Here Merry made preparations for his shaving. Over a heater-lamp he prepared his water, whistling the air of the Boola Song. This tune made him think of his old friends of Yale, some of whom he had not heard from for some time.
A year had not yet passed since he had gathered them and taken his baseball-team into the Mad River region to play baseball. In that brief space of time many things had occurred which made it evident that never again could they all be together for sport. The days of mere sport were past and over; the days of serious business had come.
Frank thought, with a sense of sadness, of Old Eli. Before him rose a vision of the campus buildings, in his ears sounded the laughter and songs, and he saw the line of fellows hanging on the fence, smoking their pipes and chaffing good-naturedly.
With some men it is a sad thing that they cannot look back with any great degree of pleasure on their boyhood and youth. They remember that other boys seemed to have fine times, while they did not. Later, other youths chummed together and were hail-fellow-well-met,[Pg 91]while they seemed set aloof from these jolly associates. With Frank this was not so. He remembered his boyhood with emotions of the greatest pleasure, from the time of his early home life to his bidding farewell to Fardale. Beyond that even unto this day the joy of life made him feel that it was a million fold worth living.
There are thousands who confess that they would not be willing to go back and live their lives over. Had the question been put to Frank Merriwell he would have said that nothing could give him greater pleasure.
When the water was hot, Frank carefully applied his razor to the strop and made it sharp enough for his purpose. Then he arranged everything needed on the little shelf beneath the mirror.
Now, it is impossible to say what thing it was that led him to remove his revolver from the holster and place it on the shelf with the other things, but something caused him to do so.
Then he applied the lather to his face, and was about to use the razor, when he suddenly saw something in the mirror that led him to move with amazing quickness.
Behind him, at the open door, was a man with a rifle. This man, a bearded ruffian, had crept up to the door with the weapon held ready for use.
But for the fact that the interior of the cabin seemed somewhat gloomy to the eyes of the man, accustomed[Pg 92]as they were to the bright glare of the sun outside, he might have been too swift for Frank.
Another thing added to Frank's fortune, and it was that he had drawn his revolver and placed the weapon on the little shelf in front of him. For this reason it was not necessary for him to reach toward the holster at his hip, an action which must have hurried the ruffian to the attempted accomplishment of his murderous design. For Merriwell had no doubt of the fellow's intention. He saw murder in the man's eyes and pose.
The rifle was half-lifted. In another moment Frank Merriwell would have been shot in the back in a most dastardly manner.
He snatched the revolver from the little shelf and fired over his shoulder without turning his head, securing such aim as was possible by the aid of the mirror into which he was looking. Frank had learned to shoot in this manner, and he could do so as skilfully as many of the expert marksmen who gave exhibitions of fancy shooting throughout the country.
His bullet struck the hand of the man, smashing some of the ruffian's fingers and causing him to drop the rifle.
Merry wheeled and strode to the door, his smoking revolver in his hand, a terrible look in his eyes.
The wretch was astounded by what had happened. Blood was streaming from his wounded hand. He saw Merriwell confront him with the ready pistol.
[Pg 93]
"You treacherous cur!" said Frank indignantly. "I think I'll finish you!"
He seemed about to shoot the man down, whereupon the ruffian dropped on his knees, begging for mercy.
"Don't—don't shoot!" he gasped, holding up his bleeding hand, "Don't kill me!"
"Why shouldn't I? You meant to kill me."
"No, no—I swear——"
"Don't lie! Your soul may start on its long trail in a moment! Don't lie when you may be on the brink of eternity!"
These stern words frightened the fellow more than ever.
"Oh, I'm telling you the truth—I sw'ar I am!" he hastened to say.
"You crept up to this door all ready to fill me full of lead."
"No, no! Nothing of the sort! I was not looking for you! It—it was some one else! I swear it by my honor!"
A bitter smile curled the lips of the young man.
"Honor!" he said—"your honor! Never mind. How much were you to receive for killing me?"
"It was not you; it was another man."
"What other?"
"Tracy."
"My foreman?"
"Yes."
[Pg 94]
"You were looking for him?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Him and me have had a fallin' out, and he cussed me. He threatened to shoot me, too."
"What was the matter?"
"Oh, he didn't like the way I done my work. It's true; ask him. I swore I'd fix him."
"Well, what brought you here to my cabin to shoot the foreman?"
"I thought I saw him coming this way."
Frank pressed his lips together and looked the man over. Somehow he believed the ruffian was lying, in spite of all these protests.
"See here, Anson," he said, "you were hired by the mining trust, or by some of its tools, to shoot me, and you tried to earn your money. Don't deny it, for you can't fool me. Just own up to the truth and it will be better for you. Tell me who made the deal with you and how much you were to receive. If you come out honestly and confess all, I'll spare you. Your hand is bleeding pretty bad, and it should be attended to at once. I'll see to that, but upon condition that you confess."
Still the ruffian continued to protest, insisting that it was Tracy he was looking for. In the midst of this he suddenly stopped, seeming to be badly frightened.
"Oh, Lord!" he choked. "Here comes Tracy! Don't tell him! I can't defend myself! Don't tell him, or he'll sure shoot me up and finish me!"
[Pg 95]
Jim Tracy was coming with long strides. He saw Frank and the wretch with the bleeding hand.
"Whatever is this?" he demanded. "I heard the shooting. What has this yaller dog been up to?"
"I shot him," said Frank quietly. "He came walking into my door in a careless manner with his rifle in his hand, and I shot him in a hurry. He was foolish; he should have been more careful. It's dangerous to walk in on me that way, even with the most peaceable intentions."
There was a strange look on Tracy's face.
"So that's how it happened?" he exclaimed, in a harsh voice. "Well, it's pretty certain that Hop Anson needs to have his worthless neck stretched, and all I ask is permission to attend to the job. I'll dispose of him very quickly."
"I told you, Mr. Merriwell!" muttered the wounded man.
"You have had some trouble with him, have you, Tracy?" asked Frank.
"Confound his hide! yes, I have. He has no business here at this time. His place is discharging the rock as it comes out. The fact that he's here counts against him. Turn him over to me."
"Instead of that," said Frank, thrusting his revolver into his holster, "I think I'll take care of him. Come in here, Anson."
Tracy seemed astonished and disgusted.
[Pg 96]
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"I'm going to see if I can't dress that hand and keep him from bleeding to death," was Merriwell's answer.
"Well, by thunder!" muttered the foreman.
[Pg 97]
It was not easy for such men to understand Frank Merriwell. Hop Anson was as much astonished as was Jim Tracy. He entered the cabin at Frank's command, and Merriwell proceeded to wash and examine the wound.
"You'll have to lose two fingers and part of another one," said Merriwell. "I can do the job for you right here, if you say so. Or I'll patch them up, stop the bleeding, and let you get to a regular saw-bones."
"You go ahead," said Anson.
So Frank opened a trunk which sat behind a curtain in one corner of the room, bringing out a case, which, on being opened, revealed a complete set of surgical instruments. These he spread out on the rough table, and soon he was ready to operate on Hop Anson's mangled hand.
Jim Tracy, his hands on his hips and his feet rather wide apart, stood looking on in silence.
Frank spent the greater part of an hour about his task, impressing Tracy as an assistant, and when he had finished two of the ruffian's fingers and a part of the third were gone, but the amputation and dressing had been done in a manner that was anything but[Pg 98]bungling. Frank had been as careful as possible to preserve cleanliness about his work.
"Well, you're certain a wonder!" exclaimed Tracy admiringly. "But you makes a big mistake in wastin' so much trouble on a dog like this."
Anson did not retort, save with a sullen flash of his treacherous eyes in the direction of the foreman.
"Permit me to know my business, Tracy," said Merry shortly. "You may go now, Anson."
"What? You're not going to let him go where he likes?"
"Yes."
So Hop Anson walked out of the cabin, picked up his rifle, and disappeared.
"I don't want to criticise you, Mr. Merriwell," said the foreman. "You know I am devoted to your interests. But I feel confident that you will be very sorry you treated that man in such a decent way and then let him off. He's a snake. I still believe he crept up to the door to shoot you in the back."
"Perhaps he did," nodded Frank, cleansing his instruments with the utmost coolness. "If so, he got the worst of it."
"But would you let him off like that if you knew it was so?"
"No. He swore it was not. I had no proof, so I let him go."
"You're altogether too easy with your enemies," asserted Tracy. "Just you turn them over to me. I'll[Pg 99]take care of them, and they'll never bother you again, be right sure of that."
"I'll think about it," smiled Frank, returning the instruments to the case.
"You came mighty near being killed by that greaser because you were easy with him."
"And my life was saved by Big Monte because I had been easy with him. That balances things, I fancy. In fact, for me, it more than balances things. I'd rather let a dozen bad men escape punishment than strike one who is innocent."
"But neither Big Monte nor Pinto Pede was innocent."
"And Pinto Pede provided a subject with which to start a graveyard here. Big Monte seemed repentant. Pede would have knifed me, but Monte shot him just as he was ready to strike."
"Well, where's Big Monte now?"
"I don't know," confessed Frank.
"He skipped out."
"Sure thing. He took a walk the first chance he got."
"And it's certain he's gone back to his pals. When they strike at you ag'in, if they do, Monte will be with 'em."
"All right. Perhaps he has an idea he'll be fighting fair that way."
"And he may kill you yet."
"Possibly."
"Well," said Tracy, "I must admit that I don't[Pg 100]understand you none whatever! Hop Anson left his work, got a rifle and came sneakin' up to your door. You shoots him in the hand, then doctors him and lets him go. That's right peculiar. But I have him to deal with somewhat, and I propose to deal. If you hear before night that Hop has hopped the divide don't be any surprised."
Tracy seemed about to depart.
"Look here," said Frank, "before you go, I have some things to say. Unless Hop Anson gives you good and sufficient cause, you are not to lift your hand against him. I don't want any shooting to get started here at the mine. I want these men to dwell together peaceably. The first shooting is likely to lead to other work in the same line."
"You're too much against such things," said Tracy; "and still I notice you don't hesitate any whatever to use a gun at times."
"When forced to it; never at any other time. I am decidedly against it. It would be dead easy to start an affair here that would lead to disturbances that might get the men to quarreling. That would put the men in condition to revolt, and an assault upon the mine would find us weakened. I trust you, Tracy, to be careful about this matter. Much depends on you. You have proved satisfactory in every way."
"Thankee," said the foreman, somewhat awkwardly. "I've tried to do my best, sir."
"That is all I ask of any man. That is all any man can do. You should understand why I wish no disturbance.[Pg 101]But, at the same time, let me warn you to watch Hop Anson closely—for your own benefit. If you have to do any shooting, well and good."
"I think I understand," said Tracy, as he walked out. At the door he paused and half-turned, as if to say something more. Already Frank was facing the little mirror on the wall, ready to resume his shaving. He stood exactly as he had stood when he shot at Anson, and his revolver lay on the shelf beneath the mirror.
Tracy went on.
[Pg 102]
Frank grew restless. On the day following the shooting of Anson he called Tracy and said:
"Tracy, I want you to keep your eyes open and be on your guard while I am away."
"Are you going away, sir?" asked the foreman.
"Yes."
"For a long time?"
"That is uncertain. I may return by night, and I may not be back for several days."
The foreman looked as if he wished to ask where Frank thought of going, but held himself in check.
"I wish to satisfy myself if any of my enemies are in this vicinity," said Merriwell. "I leave things in your hands here, and I believe I can trust you."
"You can, sir, fully."
Merry attended to the saddling of his horse. When he rode forth from the mine he was well armed and prepared for almost anything. Behind him the roar of the ore-crushers died out, and he passed into the silence of the mountains.
Not an hour had passed when he was somewhat surprised to see before him from an elevated point a big, ball-like cloud of dark smoke rising into the sky.
"That's odd," was his immediate decision.
[Pg 103]
He stopped his horse and watched the smoke as it ascended and grew thinner. It was followed by another ball of smoke as he watched, and after this came still another.
Then Frank turned in the saddle, looking in various directions. Some miles behind him three distinct and separate clouds of smoke seemed to be mounting into the sky from another high elevation.
"If those are not smoke signals," said Frank, "I'm a chump! In that case, it's likely I'll have Indians to deal with if I keep on. Perhaps I'd better turn back."
For something told him that he was the object of those signals, and this was an Indian method of communication. He sat still for some time, watching the smoke fade in the upper air, which it did slowly. At last, however, it was gone, and the clear atmosphere held no black signal of danger.
Frank's curiosity was aroused. He longed to know the meaning of those signals. Having looked to his weapons, he rode on slowly, keenly on the alert.
Coming through a narrow gorge into a valley that looked barren enough, he suddenly snatched forth a revolver and cried:
"Halt, there! Stop, or——Why, it's a woman!"
For he had seen a figure hastily seeking concealment amid some boulders. At sound of his voice the figure straightened up and turned toward him.
Then he was more amazed than ever, for he saw a dark-faced Mexican girl, wearing a short skirt and having about her neck a scarlet handkerchief. Her[Pg 104]head was bare, and her dark hair fell over her shoulders. She looked like a frightened fawn.
No wonder he was astonished to behold such a vision in that desolate part of the mountains. She seemed trembling, yet eager, and she started to advance toward him.
"Oh, señor!" she said, in a voice that was full of soft music, "eet mus' be you are good man! Eet mus' be you are not bad an' weeked. You would not hurt Gonchita?"
"Not on your life!" exclaimed Merry, at once putting up his revolver.
At which she came running and panting up to him, all in a flutter of excitement.
"Oh,Madre de Dios! I am so much happeeness! I have de great fear when you I do see. Oh, you weel come to heem? You weel do for heem de saveeng?"
The girl was rather pretty, and she was not more than eighteen or nineteen years of age. She was tanned to a dark brown, but had white teeth, which were strangely pointed and sharp.
"Who do you mean?"
"My fadare.Ay-de mi! he ees hurt! De bad men shoot heem. They rob heem! He find de gold. He breeng me with heem here to de mountain, all alone. He theenk some time he be vera reech. He have de reech mine. Then de bad men come. They shoot heem. They take hees gold. He come creep back to me. What can I to do?Ay-de mi!"
[Pg 105]
"Your father—some bad men have shot him?" said Merry.
"Si, si, señor!"
"It must have been Cimarron Bill's gang," thought Merry.
The girl was greatly excited, but he continued to question her, until he understood her quite well.
"Is he far from here?" he asked.
"No, not de very far. You come to heem? Mebbe you do for heem some good. Weel you come?"
She had her brown hands clasped and was looking most beseechingly into Frank's face.
"Of course I'll come," he said. "You shall show me the way. My horse will carry us both."
He assisted her to mount behind him, and told her to cling about his waist.
Frank continued to question Gonchita, who sometimes became almost unintelligible in her excitement and distress. They passed through the valley and turned into a rocky gorge. Frank asked if it was much farther.
"We be almost to heem now," assured Gonchita.
Almost as the words left her lips the heads of four or five men appeared above some boulders just ahead, and as many rifles were leveled straight at Frank's heart, while a well-known, triumphant voice shouted:
"I've got you dead to rights, Merriwell! If you tries tricks you gits soaked good and plenty!"
At the same moment the girl threw her arms about[Pg 106]Frank's body, pinning his arms to his sides, so that he could make no move to draw a weapon.
Merry knew on the instant that he had been trapped. He realized that he had been decoyed into the snare by the Mexican girl. He might have struggled and broken her hold, but he realized the folly of such an attempt.
"Be vera steel, señor!" hissed the voice of Gonchita in his ear. "Eet be bet-are."
"You have betrayed me," said Frank reproachfully. "I did not think it of you. And I was ready to do you a service."
He said no more to her.
Out from the rocks stepped Cimarron Bill.
"So we meet again, my gay young galoot," said the chief of the ruffians. "An' I reckon you'll not slip me so easy this time. That old Injun o' yours is food fer buzzards, an' so he won't give ye no assistance whatever."
"Old Joe——" muttered Merry, in dismay.
"Oh, we finished him!" declared Bill. "That's why you ain't seen him fer some time. Set stiddy, now, an' don't make no ruction.
"Gonchita, toss down his guns."
The Mexican girl obeyed, slipping to the ground with a laugh when she had disarmed Frank.
The ruffians now came out from the shelter of the rocks and gathered about the youth, grinning at him in a most provoking manner. He recognized several of the same fellows who had once before acted as[Pg 107]guard over him. Red Sam was there, and nodded to him.
"You're a right slick poker-player," said the sandy rascal; "but we 'lowed a girl'd fool ye easy. Goncheeter done it, too."
Frank nodded.
"She did," he confessed. "I was taken off my guard. But you want to look out for Indians."
"Why for?"
Merry then told them of the smoke signals, whereupon they grinned at one another knowingly.
"That'll be all right," said Bill. "Them signals told us when you was comin', an' which way."
"Then you were doing the signaling?"
"Some o' the boys."
Frank was then ordered down and searched. He appeared utterly fearless. He observed that Gonchita was watching him closely, a strange look in her eyes, her lips slightly parted, showing her milky, pointed teeth.
When the men were satisfied that no weapon remained in the possession of their captive, two or three of them drew aside to consult, while the others guarded Frank.
Cimarron Bill patted Gonchita's cheek with his hand.
"Well done, leetle gal!" he said. "You fooled him powerful slick."
She smiled into Bill's eyes, but in another moment, the chief, having turned away, she was watching Frank again.
[Pg 108]
The result of the consultation led to the placing of Merry on his own horse, and he was guarded by the armed men who escorted him along the gorge until they came to a place where two men were watching a number of waiting horses.
Then there was mounting and riding away, with Frank in the midst of his triumphant enemies. Gonchita rode with them, having a wiry little pony that seemed able to cope with any of the other horses.
Frank was not a little disgusted because he had been decoyed into the trap, but he did his best to hide his feelings.
It was some hours later that they halted to rest until the heat of the day should pass. A fire was built, and a meal prepared, Gonchita taking active part in this work.
Frank sat near and watched all that was passing. He had not been bound, and his manner was that of one free amid the scoundrels by whom he was surrounded. It was Gonchita who found an opportunity to whisper in his ear:
"Be vera careful! Dey mean to shoot you eef you try de escape."
He did not start or betray any emotion whatever. It hardly seemed that he had heard her whispered words. Later, however, he gave her a look which conveyed to her the assurance that he had not failed to understand.
As she worked about the fire she called upon him to replenish it with more fuel, which he did. He was putting[Pg 109]wood on the fire when she again whispered to him:
"I weel drop by you a peestol. Tak' eet; you may need eet."
He made no retort, but watched for her to keep her promise, which she afterward found opportunity to do.
Merry was lying carelessly on the ground when the weapon, a tiny revolver, was dropped at his side. Immediately he rolled over upon his stomach, in a lazy fashion, hiding the weapon, and shortly after he succeeded in slipping it into his pocket.
Frank wondered how this strange girl happened to be with those ruffians. It seemed a most remarkable and mysterious thing. He also wondered why she had been led to give him the pistol. Having led him into the trap, she had suddenly changed so that she now seemed to wish him to escape without harm.
The truth was that his coolness and nerve, together with his handsome, manly appearance, had quite won Gonchita's heart. She was a changeable creature, and had quickly come to regret leading this handsome youth into such a snare.
When the food was prepared all partook heartily. Two of the men, a big fellow with an evil face, called Brazos Tom, and a thick-shouldered brute hailed as Mike Redeye, had been drinking freely from a flask. Brazos Tom was given to chaffing the others in a manner that some of them did not appreciate, and this inclination grew upon him with the working of the[Pg 110]liquor. Redeye was a sullen, silent fellow, and Frank regarded him as a very dangerous man.
Once or twice Cimarron Bill gave Tom a look, and, at last, the big fellow seemed to quiet down.
After the meal, while the men were yet resting, Bill had his horse saddled for some reason, and rode away, having left the men in charge of Red Sam.
As soon as the chief was gone, Brazos Tom brought forth his flask, which was now nearly emptied.
"Gents," he said, "while we is waitin' we'll finish this an' try a hand at poker. Wot d'yer say?"
"Oh, blazes!" growled one. "You an' Mike has purt' near finished that. Thar ain't enough left fer a drap apiece if we pass it around."
"Drink up your stuff," said Red Sam. "It's poor firewater, anyhow. I'm fer the poker. Does you come inter this yere game, young gent, same as ye did oncet before?"
This question was addressed to Frank, but Merry already "smelled a mouse," and so it did not need the warning look from Gonchita and the slight shake of her head to deter him.
"Excuse me," he said. "I have no money."
"Waal, fish some out o' the linin' o' your clothes, same as you did afore," advised Sam.
"But I have none in the lining of my clothes."
"I begs yer pardon, but we knows a heap sight better. Don't try no monkey business with us, younker! You was good enough ter git inter a game oncet before[Pg 111]an' try ter show us up, so we gives ye another chanct, an' ye'd better accept it in a hurry."
"I hardly think I have a friend here who will be willing to lend me money," smiled Merry. "Unless somebody does so, I cannot play. That being the case, I reckon I'll keep out of it."
Sam laid a hand on the butt of his revolver.
"You can't play none of that with us!" he declared fiercely. "We knows how you found the money afore, an' you'll find it ag'in. Come, be lively."
Frank looked the man over.
"You could get blood from a turnip easier than money from me," he declared.
Then, as Red Sam seemed about to draw his weapon, Gonchita chipped in, crying:
"Don't do it, Sam! I have you cover' weez my peestol! I weel shoot!"
The men were astonished, for Gonchita had drawn a pistol and had it pointed at the head of Red Sam, while in her dark eyes there was a deadly gleam.
"What in blazes is the matter with you?" snarled Red Sam, looking at her over his shoulder.
"You hear what Gonchita say," she purred, a flush in her brown cheeks. "She mena de busineeze."
Frank could not help admiring her then, for she presented a very pretty picture.
Reluctantly Sam thrust back his weapon into his holster.
"Oh, all right!" he laughed coarsely. "I see you're stuck up a heap on the feller."
[Pg 112]
"You not to shoot heem while I am around."
"Whoop!" roared Brazos Tom, in apparent delight. "Thar's a gal fer ye! I shore admires her style!"
Then, being in a position to do so, he sprang on Gonchita, caught her in his strong arms so she could not defend herself, and gave her a bearlike hug and a kiss.
The next instant something like a hard piece of iron struck Tom behind the ear and he measured his length on the ground. Frank Merriwell had reached his feet at a bound, and hit the giant a blow that knocked him down in a twinkling.
Through all this Gonchita had held fast to her drawn revolver, and now she had it ready for use, so that, when those ruffians placed hands on their weapons, she again warned them.
At the same time she flung herself between them and Frank, so that he was partly protected as he stood over Brazos Tom, who lay prone and dazed.
"Take hees peestols!" she palpitated.
And Frank followed this piece of advice, relieving the fallen ruffian of his revolvers, so that Tom's hand reached vainly for one of the weapons as he began to recover.
"Eef you make de fight," said the girl to the ruffians, "we now gif you eet all you want."
Never before had they seen her in such a mood, and they were astounded. But they knew she could shoot, for they had seen her display her marksmanship.
[Pg 113]
"You little fool!" grated Sam. "Are you goin' to help that galoot try to git erway?"
"No, I do not dat; but I see he ees not hurt till Beel he come back."
Then she commanded Frank to throw down the pistol he had taken from Tom, which Merry did, knowing there was no chance for him to escape then without a shooting affray, in which he was almost certain to be wounded.
Immediately on this act of Frank's the ruffians seemed to abandon any desire to draw and shoot at him.
But Brazos Tom rose in a great rage, almost frothing at the mouth.
"Ten thousan' tarantulas!" he howled. "Let me git my paws on him!"
He made a rush for Frank, who seemed to stand still to meet him, but stepped aside just as the ruffian tried to fold him in his arms.
Then the big wretch was somehow caught about the body, lifted into the air, and sent crashing to the ground, striking on his head and shoulders. The young athlete from Yale handled Brazos Tom with such ease that every witness was astounded.
The big fellow lay where he fell, stunned and finished.
Gonchita looked at Frank with a light of the most intense admiration in her dark eyes.
"How you do eet so easee?" she asked.
[Pg 114]
"That's nothing, with a bungler like him to meet," said Merry quietly.
The ruffians said nothing, but exchanged meaning glances. They had been foiled for the time being by the girl and by the cleverness of their captive.
[Pg 115]
Four persons were lost in the mountains. Three of them were young men who were scarcely more than youths. All were mounted on broncos.
One was a bright-eyed, apple-cheeked chap, who had an odd manner of talking, and who emphasized his words with little gestures and flirts of his hand that were very peculiar. Another was dark and silent, with a face that was decidedly handsome, although it denoted a person given more or less to brooding and morbid thoughts. The third youth was long and lank and talked with a nasal drawl and a manner of speech that proclaimed him a down-easter.
These three were respectively Jack Ready, Bart Hodge, and Ephraim Gallup, all friends and former companions of Frank Merriwell.
The fourth one of the party was a red-nosed bummer, known as Whisky Jim, whom they had picked up to guide them from the little railroad-town to Frank Merriwell's mine. Jim had averred that he knew "every squar' foot o' Arizony frum the Grand Cañon to the Mexican line," and they had trusted in his promise to lead them, with the smallest possible delay, to the Queen Mystery Mine.
Jim would not acknowledge that he was lost. They[Pg 116]had provided him with the bronco he bestrode and promised him good pay when they should come to the mine. He had collected enough in advance to "outfit" with a liberal supply of whisky, and had managed to keep beautifully loaded ever since they rode out to the Southwest.
Their horses were wearied and reluctant, while they were sun-scorched and covered with dust.
"By gum!" groaned Gallup. "I'm purty near pegged! This is too much fer me. I wish I was to hum on the farm!"
"Prithee say not so!" cried Ready. "You give unto me that feeling of sadness known to those who are homesick. Ah, me! to endure thus to have my beautiful complexion destroyed by this horrid sun! And behold my lily-white hands! Are they not spectacles to make the gods sigh with regret! Permit me to squeeze out a few salt teardrops."
Hodge was saying nothing.
"'Sall ri', boysh," assured the useless guide thickly. "Jesht you wait an' shee. Whazzer mazzer with you? I know m' bushiness. Who shays I dunno m' bushiness?"
He was able to sit perfectly straight in the saddle, although he was disgustingly intoxicated.
"I say you don't know your business, you old fool!" said Hodge, breaking out at last. "It would serve you right if we were to leave you here in the mountains. A great guide you are! You'd die if we left you! You'd never find your way out."
[Pg 117]
Jim looked astonished. This was the first time Bart had broken forth thus plainly.
"You don't mean it?" he gurgled.
"You bet your life I meant it! I'm in for leaving you to get back to town the best way you can."
"Oh, don't do that!" exclaimed Jim, sobered somewhat by his alarm. "Someshin' might happen t' you, boysh."
"Let's leave him," nodded Jack Ready, amused by the consternation of the old fellow.
"Derned ef we don't!" cried Gallup.
Upon which the "guide" became greatly alarmed, begging them for the love of goodness not to leave him there in the mountains to die alone.
"But you're a guide," said Hodge. "You would be able to get out all right."
"Boysh," said the old toper, "I got a 'fession to make."
"What is it?"
"I ain't been in the guidin' bushiness for shome time. I'm a leetle rusty; jest a bit out o' practish. That's whazzer mazzer."
"Why didn't you say so in the first place? What made you lie to us?"
"Boysh, I needed the moneysh. Hones' Injun, I needed the moneysh bad. Been a long time shince I've had all the whisky I could hold. Great treat f' me."
Bart was disgusted, but Jack Ready was inclined to look at the affair in a humorous light.
"I'd like to know the meaning of those smoke clouds[Pg 118]we saw," said Hodge. "They looked mighty queer to me."
They consulted together, finally deciding to halt in a shadowy valley and wait for the declining of the sun, which would bring cooler air.
They confessed to one another that they were lost, and all felt that the situation was serious. It was not at all strange that Hodge was very angry with the worthless old toper who had led them into this predicament.
"We may never get out of these mountains," he said. "Or, if we do, we may perish in the desert. I tell you, fellows, we're in a bad scrape!"
"Dear me!" sighed Ready. "And I anticipated great pleasure in surprising Merry to-day. Alas and alack! such is life. I know this dreadful sunshine will spoil my complexion!"
Gallup looked dolefully at the horses, which were feeding on the buffalo-grass of the valley.
"We're a pack of darn fools!" he observed. "We'd oughter sent word to Frankie that we was comin', an' then he'd bin on hand to meet us."
The "guide" had stretched himself in the shadow of some boulders and fallen fast asleep.
"I suppose I'm to blame for this thing, fellows," said Bart grimly. "It was my scheme to take Merry by surprise."
"Waal, I ruther guess all the rest of us was reddy enough ter agree to it," put in Gallup. "We're jest ez much to blame as you be."
[Pg 119]
They talked the situation over for a while. Finally Bart rose and strolled off by himself, Gallup calling after him to look out and not go so far that he could not find his way back.
Hodge was gone almost an hour. His friends were growing alarmed, when he came racing back to them, his face flushed with excitement and his eyes flashing.
"Come, fellows!" he cried, his voice thrilling them. "I've got something to show you! We're wanted mighty bad by a friend of ours who is in trouble!"
They were on their feet.
"Who in thutteration be you talkin' abaout?" asked Gallup.
"Perchance you mean Frank?" said Ready.
"You bet your life!" said Bart. "Make sure your rifles are in working order! Leave the horses right where they're picketed. Leave Jim with them. He'll look after them, if he awakes."
For Whisky Jim continued to sleep soundly through all this.
So they seized their weapons and prepared to follow Bart.
As they ran, Bart made a brief explanation. He had climbed to a point from whence he looked down into a grassy valley, and there he discovered some horses and men. The horses were feeding, and the men were reclining in the shade, with the exception of one or two. While Bart looked he recognized one of the men, and also saw a girl. At first he thought he must be deceived, but soon he was satisfied that the one he[Pg 120]recognized was the comrade he had traveled thousands of miles to join, bringing with him Ready and Gallup.
As he watched, he saw the encounter between Merry and Brazos Tom, and that was enough to satisfy Hodge that his friend was in serious trouble. Then he hastened back to get Jack and Ephraim.
When Bart again reached the point where he could look into that valley he was astonished to discover that another struggle was taking place down there.
Frank was engaged in a knife-duel with Red Sam, having been forced into it. And Red Sam meant to kill him.
The watching ruffians were gathered around, while Gonchita, a pistol in her hand, was watching to see that the youth had fair play.
Without doubt, the sandy ruffian had expected to find Merriwell easy, and finish him quickly in an engagement of this sort. But Frank Merriwell had been instructed in knife-play by a clever expert, and he soon amazed Red Sam and the other ruffians by meeting the fellow's assault, catching his blade, parrying thrust after thrust, leaping, dodging, turning, charging, retreating, and making such a wonderful contest of it that the spectators were electrified.
It was Frank's knife that drew first blood. He slit the ruffian's sleeve at the shoulder and cut the man slightly.
Gonchita's dark eyes gleamed. More than ever she[Pg 121]marveled at this wonderful youth, who seemed more than a match for any single ruffian of Bill's band.
"He is a wonder!" she told herself. "Oh, he is grand! They meant to kill him. If he beats Red Sam they shall not kill him."
Sam swore when he felt the knife clip his shoulder.
"I'll have your heart's blood!" he snarled.
Frank smiled into his face in a manner that enraptured the watching girl.
"You are welcome to it—if you can get it! But look out for yourself!"
Then he began a whirlwindlike assault upon Sam, whom he soon bewildered by his movements. He played about the man like a leaping panther. Once Sam struck hard at Frank's breast, and Merry leaped away barely in time, for the keen knife slit the front of his shirt, exposing the clean white skin beneath.
But again and again Frank cut the big ruffian slightly, so that soon Sam was bleeding from almost a dozen wounds and slowly growing weaker in spite of his efforts to brace up.
The knives sometimes flashed together. The men stood and stared into each other's eyes. Then they leaped and dodged and struck and struck again.
Little did Frank dream of the friends who were watching him from above.
Bart Hodge was thrilled into silence by the spectacle. He knelt, with his rifle ready for instant use, panting as the battle for life continued.
"Great gosh all hemlock!" gurgled Ephraim Gallup,[Pg 122]his eyes bulging. "Did you ever see anything like that in all your natteral born days? Dern my squash ef I ever did!"
"It is beautiful!" said Jack Ready. "Frank is doing almost as well as I could do myself! I'll have to compliment him on his clever work."
Twice Bart Hodge had the butt of his rifle against his shoulder, but lowered it without firing.
"He's gittin' the best of the red-headed feller!" panted Gallup.
"Of course!" nodded Ready. "Did you look for anything else to happen?"
"Them men don't like it much of enny."
"They do not seem greatly pleased."
"I bet they all go fer him if he does the red-head up."
"In which case," chirped Jack, "it will be our duty to insert a few lead pills into them."
Bart was not talking. He believed Frank in constant danger of a most deadly sort, and he was watching every move of the ruffians, ready to balk any attempt at treachery.
As Sam weakened Frank pressed him harder. The fellow believed Merry meant to kill him, if possible.
At length Merriwell caught Sam's blade with his own, gave it a sudden twist, and the fellow's knife was sent spinning through the air, to fall to the ground at a distance.
At that moment one of the ruffians suddenly flung[Pg 123]up a hand that held a revolver, meaning to shoot Frank through the head.
Before he could fire, however, he pitched forward on his face.
Down from the heights above came the clear report of the rifle in the hands of Bartley Hodge.
Bart had saved the life of his old friend.
[Pg 124]