As the ruffian pitched forward on his face, Gonchita uttered a cry. The attention of the men was turned toward the point from which the unexpected shot had come. The Mexican girl caught hold of Merry, thrust a pistol into his hand, and hissed:
"Back—back there! Quick! It's your chance! You take eet!"
Frank did not hesitate. With the pistol in his hand, he went leaping toward the point of cover indicated. He was behind the rocks before the desperadoes realized what had taken place. They turned, uttering exclamations of anger and dismay.
"Steady, you chaps!" rang out Frank's clear voice. "Keep your distance! If you don't——"
But now the three young fellows above began shooting into the valley, and their whistling bullets sent the ruffians scudding to cover.
Gonchita disdained to fly. She walked deliberately to the shelter of the rocks near Frank.
"I geet horse for you," she said. "You take eet an' ride. Eet ees your chance. Mebbe them your friend?"
Frank had caught barely a glimpse of the three fellows, and he was not at all sure that his eyes had not deceived him.
[Pg 125]
"Perhaps they are my friends," he said. "They must be."
"You ready to go?"
"Yes."
She ran out and pulled the picket pin of one of the horses. This animal she brought up close to the point where Frank crouched.
"Take heem queek!" she panted. "You haf de chance! Down de vallee. Mebbe you git 'way."
Frank hesitated. He knew the danger of such an attempt. He no longer doubted the friendliness of Gonchita, although the remarkable change in her was most astonishing.
But the firing from above continued, and the ruffians were forced to again take to their heels and seek still safer shelter farther up the valley.
That was Merry's opportunity, and he seized it. In a twinkling, while the rascals were in confusion, he leaped upon the bare back of the horse, headed the animal down the valley, and was off.
A yell came down from above; but Frank, bending low, did not answer it.
Two or three bullets were sent after him. He was untouched, however.
Gonchita had armed him with two pistols, neither of which he had used. One he held gripped in his hand as the horse carried him tearing down the valley, and thus he came full upon Cimarron Bill, who was returning to his satellites.
Bill was astounded. He had drawn a pistol, and[Pg 126]he fired at the rider who was stooping low along the neck of the horse. The animal tossed its head and took the bullet in his brain.
Even as the horse fell, Frank fired in return. He flung himself from the animal, striking on his feet.
Bill's horse reared high in the air, striking with its forward feet. The rider leaned forward and fired from beneath the creature's neck as it stood on its hind legs, but the movements of the animal prevented him from accuracy.
Merry's second shot struck the hind leg of Bill's horse, and the creature came down in such a manner that its rider was pitched off, striking upon his head and shoulders.
Frank did not fire again, for Bill lay in a heap on the ground. The horse struggled up, being caught by Merry. Frank looked to the beast's wound, fearing to find its leg broken. This, however, was not the case, although the bullet had made a rather ugly little wound.
In another moment Frank was in Bill's saddle, and away he went on the back of the chief's horse, leaving the stunned rascal where he had fallen.
"An exchange of horses," he half-laughed. "You may have my dead one in place of your wounded one. If you do not like the bargain, Captain Bill, blame yourself."
He was in no great fear of pursuit, but he longed to know just what friends had come to his rescue at[Pg 127]such an opportune moment. How was he to reach them?
When he felt that he was safe, he drew up Bill's splendid horse, dismounted and examined the bleeding wound. It was far less serious than he had feared, and he proceeded to dress it, tearing his handkerchief into strips to tie about the creature's leg.
Having attended to his horse, Merry remounted and sought to find a means of approaching the spot from which his unknown friends had fired into the valley at such an opportune moment.
He was thus employed when he came upon a most disreputable-looking old bummer, who had in his possession four horses. This man was startled by the appearance of Merriwell and acted very strangely.
Frank rode slowly forward, ready for whatever might take place. However, he was recognized by the man, who uttered a shout of astonishment.
The man with the horses was Whisky Jim, who had awakened to find his companions gone.
He greeted Merriwell with protestations of delight.
"I knew I wash a guide!" he said. "Who shed I washn't guide? I shed I'd bring 'em to Frank Merriwell, an' I done it. But whazzer mazzer? Where zey gone? I dunno."
Barely had Merry started to question the old toper when Hodge, Ready, and Gallup appeared, hurrying forward. When they saw Merriwell they gave a cheer of delight, and, one minute later, they were shaking hands with him.
[Pg 128]
"What does this mean?" asked Frank, when he could recover enough to ask anything.
"It means," said Bart, "that we are here to back you up in your fight against the mining trust. You can depend on us to stand by you. After getting your letter, in which you wrote all about the hot time you were having fighting the trust, I hastened to get hold of Ready and Gallup and light out for this part of our great and glorious country. Here we are, though we're dead in luck to find you, for this drunken duffer managed to lose us here in the mountains."
"And you were the ones who chipped in just at the right time after my little encounter with Red Sam? Fellows, you have given me the surprise of my life! It's great to see you again! I ran into those gents, or was led into a trap by a very singular girl, and it looked as if I was in a bad box. The girl, however, seemed to change her mind after getting me into the scrape, and she wanted to get me out. I owe her a lot. But there is no telling when Cimarron Bill and his gang may come hiking this way after me, so I propose that we light out for the Queen Mystery, where we can talk things over at our leisure."
They were ready enough to follow his lead.
Jim Tracy sat with his feet elevated upon Frank Merriwell's table, smoking his pipe and talking to Hop Anson, who was on the opposite side of the table when the door opened and Frank stepped in, followed by his friends, with Whisky Jim staggering along in the rear.
[Pg 129]
Tracy's boots came down from the table with a thud, and he jumped up, uttering an exclamation and looking astounded.
"Well, may I be derned!" he said, staring at Frank.
Now Merriwell was not at all pleased to find the foreman making free in his cabin in such a manner.
"What's the matter, Tracy?" he asked sharply, glancing from Jim's face to that of Anson, who seemed no less confounded. "You seem disturbed."
"I allow I didn't expect ye back so soon," mumbled the foreman, who could not recover his composure at once.
"But I told you I might be back in a few hours, or I might not return for many days."
"I know, but——"
"But what?"
"Oh, nothing!"
"It's plain you were making yourself quite at home here. What were you doing with Anson?"
"Jest givin' him a piece o' my mind," answered Tracy promptly. "I reckon he knows now purty well what I think of him."
Now to Merry, it had seemed on his appearance that these two men were engaged in a confidential chat.
"Well, couldn't you find some other place to talk to him?" Frank asked.
"I brought him here so the rest of the boys wouldn't hear us," explained Tracy. "I opined they might take a right strong dislike to him in case they found out what happened this mornin'."
[Pg 130]
"You have not told them?"
"No."
"Well, your consideration for Anson seems very strange, considering the talk you made to-day at an earlier hour."
"I'm jest follerin' your orders," protested the foreman, not at all pleased by Merry's manner.
"Very well. You may retire, Tracy. Boys, make yourselves at home."
As Tracy and Anson were going out, the eyes of the latter encountered those of Whisky Jim, who was surveying him closely in a drunken manner.
"Who are you lookin' at?" muttered Anson.
"Sheems to me," said Jim thickly, "I'm a-lookin' at a gent what had shome deeficulty down Tucson way 'bout takin' a hoss what b'longed to nozzer man."
"You're a liar, you drunken dog!" grated Anson, as he hastened from the cabin.
"Do you know that man?" asked Merry, of Jim.
"Sh!" hissed the toper, with a cautioning gesture. "I don't want 't gener'lly know I ever shaw him before. He'sh a hosh-thief. He'd shteal anything, he would. I never 'nowledge him ash 'quaintance of mine."
"Do you know the other man, my foreman?"
"Sheems to look ruzer nacheral," said Jim; "but can't 'zactly plashe him. All shame, if he keeps comp'ny wish that hosh-thief, you look out f' him."
Frank celebrated his safe return to the mine in company with his friends by preparing a rather elaborate[Pg 131]spread, and all gathered about the table to enjoy it and chat about old times and the present fight Merry was making against the mining trust.
"Waal, dinged if this ain't scrumpshus!" cried Ephraim Gallup. "I'm feelin' a hanged sight better than I was when we was lost out in the maountains this arternoon."
"Fellows," said Merry, "you have given me the surprise of my life. I never dreamed of seeing you at such a time. And Bart's shot saved my life. I know it! I owe him everything!"
There was a glow of satisfaction in the dark eyes of Hodge.
"You owe me nothing," he said earnestly. "Whatever I am I owe it to you. Do you think I am a fellow to forget? That is why I am here. I felt that this was the time for me to prove my loyalty. When I explained it to Ephraim and Jack they were eager to come with me to back you in your fight. If you need them, you can have any of the old gang. They'll come to a man."
"Thus far," said Merry, "I have been able to balk every move of the enemy. They have employed ruffians who hesitate at nothing. You saw the fellow with the bandaged hand who was here with my foreman? Well, it was this very morning, while I was shaving at that glass, that he crept up to that open door and tried to shoot me in the back. I fired first, and he has lost a few fingers."
"Dear me!" said Ready. "I'm so frightened![Pg 132]What if somebody should take a fancy to shoot me full of holes! It might damage me beyond repair!"
"Gol ding it!" chuckled Gallup. "You must be havin' enough to keep you alfired busy around here. But what is that chap a-doin' of stayin' here?"
Frank explained fully about Hop Anson, adding that he had partly believed Anson's statement that it was the foreman for whom he was looking.
"But since coming back here unexpectedly," said Merry, "and finding them together in such a friendly fashion, I am inclined to think differently. Tracy pretended to have a powerful feeling against Anson. Something leads me to believe now that Tracy will bear watching."
They sat up until a late hour talking over old times and other matters that interested them all. When they slept they took pains to make sure that the door and windows were secured.
Whisky Jim slept outside in another building.
[Pg 133]
The following morning, while Frank and his friends were at breakfast, there came the sounds of a struggle outside the cabin, followed by a knock on the door.
Merry drew a revolver and laid it in his lap.
"Come in," he called.
The door was flung open, and Tracy entered, dragging by the collar a small Mexican lad, who held back and betrayed every evidence of terror.
"Found him skulking about, Mr. Merriwell," said the foreman. "Don't know whar he come from. Just brought him yere fer you to deal with."
The boy seemed badly frightened.
"Let him go, Tracy," said Frank.
The boy hesitated when released, seeming on the point of running, but pausing to look appealingly at Merry. He was not a bad-looking little chap, although he was rather dirty and unkempt. He had wondrous dark eyes, big and full of interrogation.
"Well, my boy, what do you want?" asked Merry, in a kindly way.
The boy shook his head.
"I want notheenk de señor can gif," he answered, in a low tone.
"How came you around here?"
[Pg 134]
"I hunt for my seestar."
"Your sister?"
"Si, señor."
"Where is she?"
"That I cannot tell, señor. She be take away by de bad man. He haf fool her, I t'ink."
"What bad man do you mean?"
"Seester call heem Beel."
"Bill?"
"Dat ees hees name."
"Bill what?"
The boy shook his head once more.
"I know eet not," he said. "He half manee man like heem who do what he say. He get my seester to go wif heem."
"What is your sister's name?"
"Eet ees Gonchita."
Frank jumped.
"Gonchita?" he cried.
"Dat ees eet," nodded the boy. "Mebbe you do know her?"
"I think I have seen her," said Merry. "By Jove! So this fellow Bill led her to run away with him, did he, the scoundrel? And you are searching for him. What will you do if you find him?"
"I cannot tell, but I want my seestar to come 'way an' leaf heem. He ees bad man."
"That's right. What's your name?"
"Pablo."
"Well, Pablo, my boy, I hope you find your sister all[Pg 135]right and get her away from Bill, but you have a big job on your hands. Come here and have some breakfast. Are you hungry?"
"Oh, vera hungree, señor!"
"You shall have all you can eat. It's all right, Tracy. You may go. I'll take care of the kid."
"I wish to report, sir," said Tracy, "that Hop Anson is missing."
"What's that? Anson—he's gone?"
"Skipped out last night, sir. He was not to be found this morning. I thought he'd do it, sir."
"Well, let him go. I don't think he'll do much harm."
"If you had listened to me, I'd fixed him so he'd never done any further harm."
"All right, Tracy—all right. I'll see you later."
Tracy left the room.
"Look out for that man, Frank," said Hodge, in an ominous manner. "He is not to be trusted at all."
"All right," said Merry. "We'll not discuss him—now." Which remark was made with a meaning look toward the Mexican lad.
Pablo was given a place at the table and a steaming cup of coffee placed before him. Corn bread and bacon, with some canned stuff, made up the breakfast, and the boy ate almost ravenously of everything given him. But he kept his hat pulled low over his eyes all the while.
After breakfast Frank sought to question Pablo further, succeeding in drawing from the boy that both[Pg 136]his father and mother were dead, and that he had lived in Holbrook with his sister, where she had seen Bill, who seemed to fascinate her. At least she had run away with the man, and, arming himself with a knife and pistol, Pablo had followed to rescue or avenge her. Chance had led him to the valley in which the Queen Mystery Mine was located.
It was rather a pathetic little story, and Merry was somewhat stirred by it.
"What could you do if you should find Bill?" he asked.
A grim look came to Pablo's soiled yet attractive face.
"I haf my peestol," he said.
"But Bill is a very bad man, and he would have a pistol, too."
"I do my best. I am not skeert of Beel."
"Well, as I happen to know something of Bill, I tell you now, Pablo, that it will be better for you if you never meet him."
"But my seestar—my seestar! I mus' find her."
Frank was tempted to tell the boy what he knew about Gonchita, but decided not to do so, believing it would be to no purpose.
So Pablo remained in the valley for the time, seeming in no hurry to continue the search for his sister. He wandered about the mine and the buildings, peering curiously at everything with his big eyes, listening to the talk of the men, and seeming to have a great curiosity.
[Pg 137]
All this was observed by Bart Hodge, who watched the lad as closely as possible. That afternoon Bart said to Frank:
"Merry, that greaser boy acts queer. Have you noticed it?"
"How do you mean?"
"Why, he told a story about being in a dreadful hurry to find his sister, but he hangs around here."
"I suppose the little chap doesn't know where to look for the girl."
"But he's such an inquisitive little rascal. He goes slipping around everywhere, looking at everything, and listening to the talk of the men. He acts to me like a spy."
"It's his way. Mexicans have a sneaking way about them, you know."
"Well, it may be his way, but I wouldn't trust him."
"I don't propose to trust him," said Frank, with a laugh. "I am not given to trusting greasers. It is probable that he will go away to-morrow and we'll never see anything more of him."
"Perhaps so."
"I expect to find him gone in the morning," said Merry.
But in the morning Pablo was found sleeping just outside Frank's door when Merry opened it. He lay there, his old hat pulled down over his ears, curled up like a dog; but he started wide-awake and sat up, staring at Merriwell with his big black eyes.
[Pg 138]
"What the dickens you doing here?" asked Frank, annoyed.
"I tak' de sleep," grinned Pablo faintly.
"Well, couldn't you find any other place? Have you been there all night?"
"Oh, I haf no odar place. Thees good for Pablo."
"Well, it may be all right for you; but it seems deuced uncomfortable to me. When are you going to look for Bill and your sister?"
"Manana."
"To-morrow?"
"Si, señor."
Frank could not refrain from smiling at this characteristic answer. With the Spaniards everything is to be done to-morrow, and the lazy Mexican, having adopted the language of the Spaniard, has also adopted his motto.
When Frank turned back he found Hodge washing.
"I told you," said Bart. "The fellow acts to me like a spy. It wouldn't surprise me to find out that he had been sent here by Bill. This story about his sister may be faked up."
"But I know Gonchita is with the ruffians."
"That's all right. That makes it all the easier to deceive you. That made the boy's story seem all the more probable. Just you watch him close and see if he doesn't act the spy."
"All right," laughed Merry. "But let's have breakfast without worrying about him."
It was necessary to drag Ready out.
[Pg 139]
"Oh, me! oh, my!" sighed Jack dolefully. "Methinks I have bestridden something that hath galled me extensively. I am likewise weary and sore in every limb and joint."
Gallup had stood the riding much better, but even he was lame.
After breakfast Frank went out and found Pablo curled in the sunshine around the corner of the hut. And not more than four feet from the Mexican lad was a rattlesnake.
The crack of the pistol in Frank's hand caused Pablo to start up with a jump. He stared in astonishment at Merry, who stood over him, holding the smoking pistol. Then he looked and saw the headless snake stretched on the ground.
"Oh,Madre de Dios!" he cried. "You shoot de snake! Mebbe you save me from de snake!"
"Perhaps so," nodded Frank, with a slight smile. "You had better be careful, for snakes are not all the dangerous things you will find on the ground."
Pablo made a spring and caught Frank's hand.
"To me you are so veree goode!" he said, kissing Merry's hand in a manner that surprised Frank somewhat.
Then he saw the pistol with which the snake had been shot.
"Carrambo!" he cried, in astonishment. "Where you geet eet? De peestol. Eet do belong to my seestar."
[Pg 140]
For Merry had shot the snake with the pistol given him by Gonchita.
"How you haf eet?" asked Pablo, with great eagerness. "Where you geet eet?"
Frank was fairly cornered. As a result, he sat down there and told the Mexican boy of his capture by Cimarron Bill's gang and of Gonchita.
"Then she be steel alife?" exclaimed Pablo. "Beel haf not keeled her!"
"He had not then."
"But she help you to geet away?"
"Yes."
"Then mebbe Beel be veree angry weeth her—mebbe he keel her! Eef he do that——"
"If he does he ought to be hanged! Pablo, Bill is sure to be hanged or shot before long, anyhow."
"But he tell Gonchita he mak' veree much monee. He say big men what can buy the law pay him much monee."
"I know what he means, Pablo. A lot of men have banded together to rob me of my mines, this one here and another in Mexico. They expected to do so with ease at first, but made a fizzle of it. They thought to take the mines from me by law; but now they know they cannot do that, and they have hired Bill and his ruffians to seize it. Those men are the ones who are paying Bill for his work. He expects they will protect him when it is done. He is looking for a pardon for all past offenses."
"But you weel not let him beat you?"
[Pg 141]
"Not if I can help it. He has failed thus far. He attacked the mine with his ruffians and was repulsed."
"De nex' time he do eet deeferent. He come een when you do not expect. Mebbe he geet somebody to gef de mine up to them."
"Nobody here," said Merry, with a laugh. "I can trust my men."
"You theenk so."
"Oh, I'm sure of it."
"One try to shoot you not long 'go."
"Yes. How did you learn of that?"
"Pablo have de ear. He hear something."
"What did you hear?"
"Dat man be paid to try de shoot."
"Look here, how do you know?"
"Oh, I hear some of de men talk. They all say they pritee sure of eet. How you like my seestar?"
The boy asked the question with such suddenness that Frank was a bit startled.
"I am sorry for her, Pablo. I'm sorry Bill has her in his hands."
"Oh, Beel he say he marree her; but I know he lie. Mebbe she know eet now. Beel want her to help heem. You theenk she veree bad girl?"
This question was put almost pathetically, Pablo again grasping Frank's hand and gazing wistfully into Merry's eyes.
"No; I do not think she is very bad."
"She do noteeng to make you theenk so?"
"Well, she fooled me somewhat at first by telling[Pg 142]me a story about her wounded father. She had such an innocent way that I swallowed the yarn. That was how I fell into Bill's hands. I accompanied her to go, as I supposed, to her wounded father. She decoyed me into a trap."
"But afterward—afterward?" eagerly asked the boy.
"She seemed to change in a most remarkable manner, and helped me out of it. But for her, I fancy I'd surely been disposed of by those ruffians."
"Then you see she be not so veree bad. When she first see you mebbe she never seen you before. Mebbe she haf promeesed to Beel that she take you eento trap. Aftare she see you she be soree, and she want you to geet away."
"I think that was about the way things happened, Pablo."
"I am glad you do not theenk she ees so veree bad girl. What you do eef I breeng her here?"
"What would I do?"
"Si señor; how you like eet?"
Pablo was watching Frank's face closely.
"Why, I would do my best for her," said Merry. "I should feel it my duty after what she did for me."
"You would not be veree angree?"
"No."
"Nor veree please'?"
"Why, for your sake I would be pleased."
"But you never care for your own sake at all? You never want to see my seestar again?"
[Pg 143]
"I should be glad to see her and thank her."
"Dat ees all?"
"And to do her any other favor in my power. I am not ungrateful enough to forget what she did for me."
"Dat ees all?"
"What more do you want?" demanded Merry, in surprise.
"Notheeng," murmured Pablo regretfully, as he turned and walked away.
[Pg 144]
The actions of Tracy seemed strangely suspicious to Merry, who undertook to watch the man, only to find that Pablo seemed to be watching him still more closely. Thus it happened that Merry followed the foreman up the valley and saw him meet another man at a point removed beyond view of the mine.
The man Tracy met was none other than Hop Anson, readily recognized at a distance by his bandaged hand.
"Something doing!" muttered Frank, as he crouched behind the rocks and watched the two. "Tracy wanted to lynch Anson. Now they meet like this, apparently by appointment. My foreman is playing some sort of a double game."
This point was settled in Frank's mind. He longed to be near enough to hear what was passing between the two, but could not reach such a position without exposing himself.
The men were suspicious that they might be watched. They did not remain there long. But Frank distinctly saw Anson give Tracy something, which the latter placed in his pocket. Then the foreman turned back, and Hop Anson vanished in the opposite direction.
[Pg 145]
Frank was tempted to step out and confront the foreman, demanding to know what it meant, but he chose to remain quiet and seek the truth in another manner. So he let Tracy pass.
But when the foreman had disappeared Merry sprang up and went racing after Hop Anson, hoping to run the rascal down. He came out where he could see far along a broad gorge, and there, riding into the distance, mounted on a good horse, was Anson. Frank knew the folly of trying further pursuit, so he stood still and watched the vanishing figure.
"I'd like to know just what it was that Hop Anson gave Tracy," he said, aloud.
Immediately, within less than twenty feet from him, Pablo, the Mexican boy, arose into view.
"I teel you what eet was," he said. "Eet was monee."
Frank was startled by this sudden appearance of the boy.
"What are you doing here?" he asked sharply.
"Oh, I watch de Tracy man," returned the lad craftily. "I see something."
"Were you near enough to hear their talk?"
"Just a leetle beet."
"Ha! What was it? What did you hear?"
"De man with hurt hand he geef oder man monee. Oder man take eet. Say eet not enough. Must have two times more as much before he do something man with hurt hand want heem to do. Man with hurt hand mad. Eet do no goode. Oder man say breeng[Pg 146]as much more twice over to heem at same place same time to-morrow."
It is needless to say that this revelation was intensely interesting to Merriwell.
"Why, Hop Anson has no money!" exclaimed Frank. "Where did he get it? It must have come from Bill. In that case, an attempt is being made to bribe my foreman. I have a traitor in the mine, and he means to deliver me into the hands of the enemy."
"Tracy man he say to man with hurt hand that Pablo, the brother of Gonchita, ees here."
"So Tracy told Anson that?"
"Si, señor."
"Well, I think I need a new foreman—and need him bad! It is about time for Mr. Tracy to get out!"
"You wait and watch, you ketch heem."
It was arranged that Pablo should return in advance to the mine, in order that they might not be seen coming in together. So the Mexican boy strolled back with assumed carelessness.
But it happened that Jim Tracy was watching, and he saw Pablo, whereupon he hastened to meet the boy.
"Where have you been?" harshly demanded the foreman.
Pablo looked surprised.
"I go to tak' de walk," he said.
"You little liar!" snarled Tracy. "You have been playing the spy! I know what you have been doing!"
"De spyee—how you mean?"
[Pg 147]
The Mexican lad seemed very innocent.
"I've seen you sneaking around. Why are you hanging around here, anyhow? Why don't you get out?"
"Dat none of your busineeze," returned the lad saucily.
"You little runt!" growled Tracy, catching the boy by the shoulder. "Do you dare talk to me that way?"
"You beeg rufeen!" cried Pablo. "You hurt! Let of me a-go!"
Then he kicked the foreman on the shins. Immediately, with a roar of rage, Tracy struck Pablo with his fist, knocking the boy down.
Pablo was armed with a pistol, and this weapon he snatched out when he scrambled to his feet. But Tracy was on hand to clutch him and wrest the weapon from his grasp.
"You little devil!" grated the man. "I'll cut your throat on the spot!"
There was a terrible look in his eyes as he whipped out a knife and lifted it.
"Drop that!"
Crack!—the report of a revolver emphasized the command, and the bullet struck the knife and tore it from the hand of the aroused ruffian.
Frank Merriwell had arrived just in time to save Pablo, who was bent helplessly backward over Tracy's knee, the hand of the wretch being at his throat.
Tracy shook his benumbed and quivering hand, releasing the boy and looking at Frank resentfully.
[Pg 148]
"Oh, you're not badly hurt!" said Merry, as he strode up. "My lead struck the knife blade, not your hand. And I seemed to be barely in time, too."
"Oh, I wasn't going to hurt the kid!" declared Tracy harshly. "I was going to teach him a lesson, that was all. I wanted to frighten him a little."
"Well, your behavior looked remarkably bloodthirsty. You seemed on the point of drawing the knife across his throat. That was enough for me. You may go, Tracy, but you are to let Pablo alone in the future."
"If he insults me——"
"Report to me; I'll make him apologize. Go."
Tracy seemed to wish to linger to argue over the matter, but the look in Merriwell's eyes forbade it, and he picked up the knife and slouched sullenly away.
"I hope he did not hurt you much," said Frank, lifting Pablo's hat to see the bruise made by the ruffian's fist.
With a cry, the boy grasped his hat and pulled it down upon his head.
But Frank had made a most surprising discovery, and it was enough to give Merry something to meditate over.
He decided that the boy must be closely watched, and he longed for the presence of old Joe Crowfoot, than whom no one was more fitted to such a task.
But the outlaws had averred that old Joe was "food for buzzards," and the protracted absence of the redskin[Pg 149]led Merry to fear that he had looked into the Indian's beady eyes for the last time.
Frank spoke to no one of his discovery. As far as possible, he kept his eyes on Pablo, as if he believed the boy meditated treachery of some sort.
Frank's friends wandered about the place and investigated the mine, watching operations.
The calm of the valley was most deceptive, and both Ready and Gallup declared they could not conceive any possible danger lurking near. Hodge, however, professed to feel a warning in the very peacefulness, which he declared was the calm before a storm.
Jim Tracy sulked. His treatment by Frank was altogether displeasing to him, and he felt that he had been humiliated, which caused him to register a secret vow of vengeance.
Pablo was generally found lingering about Frank's cabin or somewhere near Merry.
"He knows a good thing when he sees it," said Ready sagely, "and he means to stick to it. He doesn't seem in any great hurry about rushing to the rescue of his 'seestar.'"
Frank smiled in a knowing manner, observing:
"Perhaps he has reasons to know that his sister is in no great peril at present, and he is satisfied to stay here."
"He's a gol dern lazy little beggar!" said Gallup. "An' he oughter hev to wash his face once in a while."
The evening was cool and agreeable. The sun dropped peacefully behind the mountains and the[Pg 150]shadows gathered deeply in the gorges and cañons. The roar of the stamps sank to silence, and peace lay like a prayer on the valley.
Frank and his friends sat about the cabin door and chatted of old times. Sometimes they sang little snatches of the old songs.
And as the darkness deepened a slender, boyish figure lay on his stomach and wiggled cautiously nearer and nearer, taking the utmost pains not to be seen.
This eavesdropper was Pablo, and he evinced the greatest interest in all they were saying; but it was when Frank spoke or sang that he listened with the utmost attention, keeping perfectly still. Thus it was that the boy heard Hodge say:
"Merriwell, I'm half-inclined to believe that dirty little Mexican rascal is a fakir. I suspect him."
"Of what?" asked Frank.
"Of being a spy. He told a slick tale, but I've had time to think it over, and somehow it seems too thin. Why shouldn't Bill send him here to play the spy?"
"My dear Bart," said Merry, with a laugh, "what would be Bill's object? What could the boy do?"
"He might get a chance to put a knife in your back, old man."
"I'll chance it. I do not believe Pablo that bad. I'll trust him."
"Well, I wouldn't trust any greaser."
"I hate you, Señor Hodge!" whispered the listening boy, to himself. "I hate you; but I lofe Frank Merriwell!"
[Pg 151]
The miners gathered near their quarters. As far as possible, Frank had secured miners who were not Mexicans, but there were a few Mexicans among them.
Among the men were some who were hard characters when they were drinking, and Merry had taken particular pains to make rules and regulations to keep liquor away from them.
The morning after the encounter between Pablo and Jim, the foreman, Frank arose and flung open the door of his cabin, but immediately made the discovery that a sheet of paper was pinned to the door with a knife.
"Hello!" he exclaimed. "Here's something interesting!"
Gallup came slouching forward, followed by Ready.
"What, ho!" cried Jack, as his eyes fell on the knife and the paper. "Methinks I see something! Hist! That is what the tragic actor said when he appeared upon the stage. He crept in and looked around, after which he said, 'Hist!' And he was hissed."
"By gum!" cried Ephraim. "There's writin' written on it! What does it say?"
This is what they read written sprawlingly on the sheet of paper that was pinned to the door by the knife:
"Frank Merriwell: You are hearby giv notis that you are to send away the boy Pablo instanter.[Pg 152]He promised to come to his sister, and he has not come. You are warned not to keep him.Bill."
"Frank Merriwell: You are hearby giv notis that you are to send away the boy Pablo instanter.[Pg 152]He promised to come to his sister, and he has not come. You are warned not to keep him.Bill."
Frank looked at the notice and laughed.
"Well," he said, "that is rather interesting. So Bill wants the boy? Why doesn't he come and take him?"
Hodge came and read the notice, a deep frown on his darkly handsome face.
"What do you make of it, Merry?" he asked.
"Give us your opinion."
"Nerve."
"Shall we give up the boy?"
Now Bart had not favored Pablo, but at this juncture he grimly declared:
"I'm against it."
"Good!" nodded Merry. "Let Bill come and take him! If the boy's story is true, it would not be a healthy thing for him to fall into Bill's hands."
Just as he spoke these words Jim Tracy came around the corner and appeared on the scene. He halted, appearing surprised, and stared at the knife and the notice.
"Whatever is it?" he asked.
"Something left there during the night," said Merry. "Read it."
Tracy looked it over.
"Well, Bill sure wants the greaser kid," he said, "an' I reckon you'd best give the youngster up."
"Why do you reckon that?"
[Pg 153]
"Cimarron Bill is a heap dangerous."
"He may be," said Merry; "but he has failed thus far to get ahead of me. I don't like his notice, if this came from him. But I thought you took pains to have the place guarded at night, Tracy?"
"So I does, sir."
"Then how did Bill or any of his gang manage to creep up here and pin this to my door?"
"That I can't say, sir."
"I think I'll look after things to-night," said Frank grimly. "If we're getting careless around here Bill may walk in some night and seize the mine before we know a thing of what's going to happen."
He jerked the knife from the door, took the paper and placed it in his pocket, after which he indicated that he was ready to speak with the foreman, who had some matter of business to discuss.
When Tracy departed Frank sat down and meditated, for he had noticed something peculiar and remarkable.
There were ink-stains upon the thumb and two of the fingers of Jim Tracy's right hand.
[Pg 154]
Needless to say Frank did not send Pablo away. He did not tell the boy of the warning found on the door. Instead, he called the Mexican lad and said:
"Pablo, I want you to watch Tracy closely for me. Will you?"
"Señor Frank can be sure I weel," said the boy.
"If possible, I want you to get some of Tracy's handwriting and bring it to me."
"Eet I will do, señor."
"But look out for him. He's dangerous. Don't let him catch you playing the spy."
"I tak' de great care 'bout that."
Before noon the Mexican boy came hurrying to Merry, his big dark eyes glowing. He caught hold of Frank's hand and gave it an excited pressure.
"I haf eet!" he said.
"What is it you have?"
"Some of hees writeeng. He do eet in de mine offeese when he think no one watch heem. I see heem through window. He put eet in lettare, stick eet up, put in pocket, then drop um. I know; I watch; I pick eet up. Here eet ees!"
He thrust into Merry's hand a soiled, sealed and undirected envelope.
[Pg 155]
"Eet ees inside," said Pablo, all aquiver.
"Come in here," said Frank, leading the way into the cabin.
Bart and Jack were watching Ephraim Gallup at a distance from the cabin, the Yankee youth being engaged in a brave attempt to ride a small, bucking bronco.
When they were inside the cabin, Frank closed and fastened the door. Making a hasty examination of the envelope, he quickly lighted a small alcohol-lamp beneath a tiny brass tea-kettle, which he partly filled with water.
In a very few moments steam was pouring from the nozle of the kettle. Holding the envelope in this, Merry quickly steamed open the flap, taking from it a sheet of paper.
Pablo's eyes seemed to grow larger than ever as he watched. Frank unfolded the paper and read:
"I have decided to except terms, and to-night will be the time for you to come down on the mine. The whisky will be yoused to get the men drunk, jest as you perposed, and I'll hev them all filled up by ten o'clock. Wate tell you hear three shots right togather, then charge and you'll take the mine, havin' only Merywel and his tenderfeet backers to fight, and them I will hav fastened into their cabin. J."
"I have decided to except terms, and to-night will be the time for you to come down on the mine. The whisky will be yoused to get the men drunk, jest as you perposed, and I'll hev them all filled up by ten o'clock. Wate tell you hear three shots right togather, then charge and you'll take the mine, havin' only Merywel and his tenderfeet backers to fight, and them I will hav fastened into their cabin. J."
Merry whistled over this, showing no small amount of surprise.
"Ees de writin' what you expec'?" asked Pablo anxiously.
[Pg 156]
"It's somewhat more than I expected," said Frank. "By Jove! there will be doings here to-night."
He quickly decided on the course he would pursue. Carefully drying the flap of the envelope, he placed some fresh mucilage on it, thrust the message into it, and resealed it carefully.
"See here, Pablo," he said quickly, "if you can do it, I want you to take this and drop it just where you found it, so that Tracy will be pretty sure to recover it. I do not wish him to know that it has been picked up. Do your best. If you can't do it, come and tell me."
"I do eet," assured Pablo, as he took the envelope, concealed it beneath his jacket, and slipped from the cabin.
Frank had been given something to think about.
"So Tracy has turned traitor," he meditated. "He has decided to betray the mine into the hands of Cimarron Bill's gang. It was his writing on the notice pinned on the door, not Bill's. That notice was a fake, and it made him angry because it didn't work out as he planned. Bill got at him through Hop Anson, who must have been in Bill's employ all along. Well, to-night is the time I give those ruffians their final setback. Another repulse will discourage them. They would have descended on the place while I was in their power if they had fancied there was any chance that I might escape with my life."
Pretty soon he walked out, with his hands in his[Pg 157]pockets, and joined his friends, laughing heartily over Gallup's trials, and seeming undisturbed by any worry.
Later he entered the mine and found that Tracy was not about. Nor could he discover anything of Pablo. The afternoon was far spent when the Mexican boy suddenly appeared before Frank.
"Hello, Pablo!" said Merry. "What's the word?"
"I followe heem," whispered Pablo excitedly. "I haf drop de letter where he find eet when he look for eet. Then he find time to go 'way. I followe. I see heem take letter to place in rocks long distance down vallee. He hide eet there. Pablo let heem go; stay watch letter. He haf hoss hid some piece off. He geet to hoss, geet on heem, ride off."
"That's all?"
"Dhat ees all."
"Well, you have done well, Pablo," said Merry. "I'll not forget it."
Pablo again grasped Frank's hand, which he kissed.
"You freen' to Pablo," he said. "You goode to heem. He not forget."
"Tell no one what you have seen and done."
"You look out for Beel."
"You may be sure I'll do that, Pablo. When Bill comes here, he'll receive a warm reception."
That night after supper, as the miners sat about the long table in the low, open room, smoking their pipes and cigarettes and enjoying the grateful coolness of the evening, Jim Tracy, the foreman, came into the room and cried:
[Pg 158]
"Well, boys, you've been working right hard to open up this yere old mine, an' I appreciates it, if the young man what owns the property don't. It's a long distance to town, an' ye can't all git off together to have a leetle blow, so I has brought ye some good whisky, and I perposes that you all takes a drink on me."
Saying which, he produced two big quart bottles and held them above his head, so the lamplight fell upon them.
Instantly two shots sounded through the place, and the bottles were smashed in the foreman's hands by a pair of bullets, the glass flying and the liquor spattering over him.
In through the doorway at the opposite end of the room stepped Frank Merriwell, a pistol in each hand.
"Keep your hands up and empty, Jim Tracy!" he said, in a commanding tone. "It will be unhealthy for you if you lower them!"
Behind Frank were Bart, Jack, and Ephraim, with Pablo hovering like a shadow still farther in the rear.
Tracy was astounded.
"What in blazes does this mean!" he snarled, but he kept his hands up, as Frank had ordered.
"It means that I am onto your game to drug these boys and betray us all. Steady! If you try to get a weapon I shall drop you! You know I can shoot a little. Just tie him up, fellows."
"With the greatest pleasure," chirped Jack Ready, as he waltzed lightly forward, accompanied by Hodge and Gallup.
[Pg 159]
In spite of the protests of Tracy, they bound him hand and foot, so that he could barely wiggle.
The miners had been amazed, but they believed Merry when he told them of Tracy's plot to betray the mine.
"He would have drugged you all," said Frank. "Then, when Bill's gang charged on the mine, it's likely many of you would have been killed. But what did he care about that. Now we'll fool Cimarron Bill and teach him a lesson."
He explained his plan to them, and they readily agreed. So it happened that, a little later, the miners began to sing and shout and pretend to be riotously merry. This they kept up until it seemed as if they were engaged in a fearful carousal. Then the noises began to die out and grow less.
It was past ten o'clock when dead silence seemed to rest on the camp. Frank Merriwell stepped to the door, lifted his hand and fired three shots into the air.
Five minutes later the sound of galloping horses coming up the valley was distinctly heard.
"Here they come!" breathed Frank. "All ready for them!"
Right up to the mine-buildings charged the horsemen. They were dismounting when Frank's challenge rang out sharp and clear:
"Hold, Cimarron Bill! Stop where you are! Stop, or we fire!"
[Pg 160]
The outlaws uttered a yell and charged, firing the first shots.
Then Merry gave the command, and the armed and waiting miners fired on the raiders. It was a withering volley, and must have astounded the ruffians.
Bill, however, had come this time determined to succeed, and he called on his men to break down the doors. As they were hammering at the front doors, Frank led some of the men out by the back way and charged round the buildings.
The encounter that took place was brief and sanguine. The miners were encouraged by Hodge, Ready, and Gallup, who fought with savage fury, and the raiders began to waver.
Suddenly a tall figure came rushing into the thick of the fight and confronted Frank.
It was Tracy, who had been released from his bonds by a sympathetic miner.
"Yah!" he snarled, having heard Merry's voice and recognized him. "So it's you! I've found you! Take that!"
He pitched forward a revolver and fired pointblank at Frank.
At that very instant, with a cry, Pablo, the Mexican boy, leaped in front of Merry.
Struck by the bullet intended for Frank, the little fellow tossed up his arms and fell backward into Merriwell's clasp. At the same instant somebody shot Jim Tracy through the brain.
As Merriwell lowered the death-stricken boy, the[Pg 161]raiders, completely baffled, gave over the attack and took to flight, leaving half their number behind, stretched upon the ground.
"Are you hurt—badly?" asked Frank, as one of the boy's arms dropped limply over his neck and seemed to cling there.
For a moment there was no answer. Then came the faintly whispered words:
"I—theenk—I—am—keeled—Señor Merriwell."
"Oh, no, Gonchita!" said Frank earnestly; "not as bad as that! It cannot be!"
"You know me," was the surprised whisper. "How you know I am Gonchita?"
"Oh, I discovered it the other day—I found you had your hair tied up beneath your hat. Here, men—somebody bring a light! Be lively about it!"
"All right, sir," said one of the men. "Have one directly."
"No use, Señor Merriwell," came weakly from the lips of the disguised girl. "I shall be dead in a minute.Ay-de mi! Poor Gonchita! You theenk she ees veree bad girl? Beel he say he weel marree her. He get me to fool you, señor. Then you are so veree brave! Señor Frank, I theenk you are de han'someest, de braveest man I evere know. I run away from Beel. I wear de boyee's clothes an' come here. Dat ees all. Now I haf to die."
"Perhaps not, Gonchita," said Merry, with infinite pity for the unfortunate girl. "We'll see what can be done for you."
[Pg 162]
She managed to press one of his hands to her lips.
"So goode—so han'some!" she whispered. "Good-by, señor! Eet ees ovare."
Then one of the men came out with a lighted lantern; but before the light fell on the face of the wounded girl Frank knew he was holding a corpse in his arms.
[Pg 163]
Among the dead was found Hop Anson. Jim Tracy lay where he had fallen immediately after the shot which ended the life of poor Gonchita.
Such of the ruffians who were wounded were cared for as well as possible. The dead were buried there in the valley.
Cimarron Bill's band was completely broken up.
On his next visit to town Merry had a marble slab cut for the grave of the Mexican girl, which was located at a distance from those of the outlaws.
On the slab were chiseled these words: "Poor Gonchita!"
The afternoon sun lay scorching hot upon the arid plain. Heat waves moved in the air like the billows of a phantom sea. To the west were barren mountain-peaks and the nearer foot-hills; to the east the unbroken plain lay level to the horizon.
Behind the body of his dead horse lay a sorely wounded man, with his dog crouching close at his side. The dog's dry tongue lolled from the animal's mouth; at times the poor creature whined and sought to lick the hand of its master; anon he growled fiercely, the hair bristling on his neck, and started up in a savage manner.
"Down, Boxer, down!" the man would order, in a voice ever growing weaker. "You can't help. The red devils will get you with a bullet. Down, sir!"
At which the dog would sink back, whine again and draw his filelike tongue along the hand or cheek of his master.
"Heavens!" muttered the man. "For a swallow of water. I'd give the last ounce in the saddle-bags if I could finish one or two more of those murderous curs before I cash in!"
His almost nerveless hands grasped the barrel of his rifle, and he looked away toward the spot where six[Pg 164]horsemen had drawn up in a little cluster just beyond bullet-reach.
They were Indians, mounted on tough ponies, and some of them armed with modern weapons. Two or three carried lances, on which the glaring sun glinted.
They had hunted him down; they had killed the horse beneath him and wounded him unto death. The bullet was through his body, and the sands of life were ebbing fast. He had reached the end of his trail, and the red fiends out there on the baking plain knew they had only to wait a while and then ride forward unmolested and strip off his scalp. Yet, being far from their reservation, the savages were impatient at the delay. Their hearts were vengeful within them, for in the chase he had slain two of their number.
One of them, an impetuous young buck, was for making haste in finishing the paleface. He motioned toward the declining sun and suggested that the wounded man might try to crawl away with the coming of darkness. Besides, they had far to go, and it was a waste of time to wait for the paleface to die. Likely he was so far gone that he could not shoot to defend himself, and there would be little trouble in getting near enough to despatch him.
The impetuous spirit of this savage prevailed, and soon the redskins began riding around and around man and horse and dog, spreading out into a circle with great gaps and slowly closing in, now and then uttering a challenging yell. As they closed in they flung themselves over upon the sides of their ponies[Pg 165]opposite the wounded man, so that their horses seemed riderless. Occasionally a shot was fired from beneath the neck of a racing pony.
The dying man gathered himself a little and watched them. A puff of white smoke leaped out before a pony and was quickly left behind to dissolve and fade in the heated air. A bullet threw up a bit of dust within three feet of the white man. The dog bristled and growled. Another bullet clipped a stalk from a cactus plant five feet away.
"They're within shooting distance," whispered the doomed wretch. "Wonder if I've got nerve enough to drop a pony."
He rested his rifle on the body of the dead horse and waited. Out on the plain the racing ponies began to swim in a haze. He could see them indistinctly, and he brushed a hand across his eyes.
"I'm going fast, Boxer," he muttered to the dog. "My sight is failing! I'm burning inside! And I know you're choking yourself, poor dog! It's a hard way to pipe out."
The dog whined sympathetically and pressed closer. A bullet whistled past the head of the man. He tightened his grip on his rifle, sought to take aim, and finally fired.
His bullet went wide of the target he sought, and a yell of derision floated to his ears through the hot air.
"No use!" he muttered huskily. "I'm done for![Pg 166]It's the finish! They can close right in and wipe me out!"
The savages seemed to know it, and they were drawing nearer.
Of a sudden out from the depths of a long barranca, a mighty fissure in the plain, produced in former ages by a convulsion of nature, or marking the course of a river—out from one end that rose to the surface of the plain not far from the circling savages, came a horse and rider. As the rider rose into view he began shooting with a magazine rifle, and his first bullet caused a redskin to lose his hold and tumble end over end in the dirt, while the pony galloped on.
The following Indian stooped and seemed to catch up his wounded comrade as he swept past.
The lone horseman rode straight at them in a reckless manner, working his repeater.
A pony was wounded, another plunged forward into the dirt. In another moment the redskins wheeled and were in full flight, astounded and demoralized by the attack, two of the horses carrying double, while another left drops of blood upon the ground.
The daring paleface uttered a strange war-whoop of triumph: "Brekekek Co-ax, Co-ax, Yale!"
Never before had those Indians heard such a singular cry from the lips of a white man. It seemed to fill them with a mad desire to get away, to flee at top speed. It struck terror into their hearts, as many a time the same slogan has struck fear to the hearts of those battling against Old Eli on some athletic[Pg 167]field. They urged their ponies forward, and away they went, scurrying into the distance, with bullets singing around them.
The man behind the dead horse lifted himself and strained his bedimmed eyes, seeing the youthful rider shoot past in pursuit of the savages. The dog rose, planting his forefeet on the horse's body, and barked madly.
When he was satisfied that the Indians were in full retreat, with little thought of turning or offering resistance, Frank Merriwell, for it was he who had dashed out of the barranca, drew up and turned about, galloping back toward the man he had dared so much to save.
But he had come too late.
As Merry rode near the dying man had fallen back beside his dead horse. Over him stood the dog, covered with dust, its eyes glaring redly, its teeth disclosed, ready to defend the body of its master. As Frank drew up the dog snarled fiercely.
Merry saw at a glance that the situation of the dog's master was serious in the extreme. He dismounted and stepped forward, leaving his horse, knowing well the animal would stand. As he approached the dog grew fiercer of aspect, and he saw the creature meant to leap straight at his throat.
"Good dog!" he said, stopping. "Fine dog! Come, sir—come! Ah-ha, fine fellow!"
But all his attempts to win the confidence of the dog were failures.
[Pg 168]
"The man is dying," he muttered. "Perhaps I might save him if I could get to him now. Must I shoot that dog? I hate to do it, for the creature seems very intelligent."
At this moment the man stirred a little and seemed to realize what was happening. He lifted his head a little and saw the dismounted horseman and the threatening dog.
"Down, Boxer; down, sir!" he commanded. "Be quiet!"
His voice rose scarcely above a whisper, but the dog reluctantly obeyed, still keeping his eyes on Frank, who now stepped up at once.
"You're badly wounded, sir," he said. "Let me see if I can do anything for you."
"Give me water—for the love of Heaven, water!" was the harshly whispered imploration.
In a twinkling Frank sprang to his horse and brought back a canteen that was well filled. This he held to the lips of the wretched man, while the crouching dog watched every move with his red eyes.
That water, warm though it was, brought back a little life to the sinking man.
"God bless you!" he murmured gratefully.
The dog whined.
"Can't you give Boxer a little?" asked the dog's master. "He's suffering as much as I am."
Frank quickly removed from his saddle-bags a deep tin plate, on which some of the water was poured, and[Pg 169]this the dog greedily licked up, wagging his tail in thankfulness.
"Poor old Boxer!" sighed the doomed man.
"Now, sir," said the youth, "let me examine your wound and find out what I can do for you."
"No use," was the declaration. "I'm done for. It's through the lung, and I've bled enough to finish two men. The blood is all out of me."
But the young man insisted on looking and did what he could to check the flow of blood.
The doomed man shook his head a little.
"No use," he repeated. "I'm going now—I feel it. But you have done all you could for Old Bens, and you won't lose nothing by it. What's your name?"
"Frank Merriwell."
"Well, Pard Merriwell, you sure went for those red devils right hot. I allowed at first that you must have four or five friends with ye."
"I'm alone."
"And it was great grit for you to charge the red skunks that way. However did you happen to do it?"
"I saw what was going on from the high land to the west with the aid of a powerful glass. I knew they had a white man trapped here. I struck the barranca and managed to get down into it, so I was able to ride close without being seen and charge up from this end, where it rises to the level of the plain. That is all."
"It was nerve, young man, and plenty of it! My name is Benson Clark. I'm a miner. Been over in the Mazatzals. Struck it rich, young pard—struck it rich.[Pg 170]There was no one but me and old Boxer, my dog. I took out a heap of dust, and I opine I located a quartz claim that certainly is worth a hundred thousand dollars, or I'm away off. Been a miner all my life. Grub-staked it from the Canadian line to Mexico. Have managed to live, but this is my first strike. No one staked me this time, so it's all mine. But see, pard, what black luck and those red devils have done for me! I'm finished, and I'll never live to enjoy a dollar of my wealth. Pretty tough, eh?"