"Got it!" whispered File huskily. "He nailed me good and plenty that time!"
Without a word, fearing Cimarron Bill might discover he had shot the wrong man and seek to rectify his bad work, Frank lifted File in his muscular arms and ran into a store with him.
The city marshal was stretched on a counter.
"Send for a doctor!" commanded Merry. "And turn out a posse to take Cimarron Bill. He fired the shot."
At the mention of Cimarron Bill, however, consternation reigned. The desperado was all too well known in Holbrook, and scarcely a man in all the place cared to face him.
"No use," said File faintly. "Nobody'll dare touch Bill. He'll get out of town deliberately without being molested."
"Impossible!" exclaimed Merry. "Why, you don't mean to say they will let that murderous hound escape?"
"He'll escape now that I'm flat. There's not a man in Holbrook that dares face him."
[Pg 264]
"You're mistaken!" said Merry. "There is one man!"
"What one?"
"This one!"
"You?"
"Yes."
"Do you mean to say——"
"That I dare face that man! Give me my weapons and I'll go out and get him!"
Ben File looked at the boyish young man incredulously.
"You don't know what you're talking about," he said, as they were trying to stop the bleeding of his wound, which was in his left side. "That man has a record. He's the deadliest ruffian in Arizona. He would kill you."
"I don't believe it," said Frank. "I've seen his like before. Give me my revolvers, and I'll go take him. I'll bring him to you if you live!"
File fumbled in his huge pockets and brought out Merry's long-barreled revolvers.
"Go ahead if you want to," he said. "Somehow I take stock in you, though I'm afraid it's your funeral you're going to. Anyhow, if I'm booked to cash in, I don't mind giving you a show to levant. Here comes the doctor."
The same red-faced little man came rushing into the store, brought there by a messenger who had gone in search of him.
[Pg 265]
Frank examined his weapons, and then walked out of the store.
There was considerable excitement on the street, caused by the shooting. Merry minded no one, yet kept his eyes wide open for every one. As fast as he could step he proceeded straight to the open door from which Cimarron Bill had fired the shot. He had a pistol in either hand when he stepped through that doorway.
As he had expected, it was a saloon. Three persons were in the room, but Cimarron Bill was not there.
"Gentlemen," said Merry, "I'll be obliged if you will tell me where I can find the white-livered cur who just shot Ben File from this doorway."
They stared at him as if doubting their senses.
"If it's Cimarron Bill you're looking for, young man," one of them finally said, "take my advice and don't. It's the most onhealthy occupation you can engage in, and I advise——"
"Cut out the advice," said Merry sharply; "and tell me where the cowardly dog has gone."
"He ambled out o' yere directly arter doin' the shootin', and we last sees him lopin' down the street that-a-way. But you wants to keep a heap long distance——"
Frank waited for no more. He was satisfied that Bill had departed just as the man said, and he wheeled at once and started down the street.
Merry knew full well what sort of mission he had[Pg 266]undertaken, but he was not daunted in the least by its magnitude. Cimarron Bill was his deadly foe, but he now saw his opportunity to bring the ruffian to an accounting for his crimes, and he did not propose to let the chance slip.
So he inquired as he passed down the street and found that Bill had hurried to the saloon kept by Schlitzenheimer.
Again Merry had his pistols ready when he entered the saloon. Early though it was, he found four men there engaged in a game of draw poker, and one of the four was old Joe Crowfoot.
Schlitzenheimer gave a shout when he saw Frank.
"My gootness!" he cried. "How you vos? Vere vos dot dalking tog alretty? I vouldt like to blay dot tog anodder came beenuckle of."
Frank was disappointed once more in failing to discover Cimarron Bill. He asked if the man had been there.
"He vos," nodded Schlitzenheimer. "Und avay he dit his saddle take."
"He took his saddle?"
"Yah."
"Then his saddle was here?"
"It he dit keep here, vor id vos very valueless," said the Dutchman. "He vos avraid stolen id would pe. I know Pill. Ven he come und say, 'Vritz, you tookit my saddles und keepit it a vile undil vor id I call,' I[Pg 267]say, 'Yah, you pet.' I haf nod any anxiety him to make some drouble by."
"If he came for his saddle it is likely he meant to use it. Was he in a hurry?"
"Der piggest hurry I ever knewn him to pe indo. Ven I invortationed him to a drink take, he said he could not sdop vor id."
"He's on the run!" exclaimed Frank. "Where does he keep his horse when in town?"
"Ad Dorvelt's shust down a liddle vays."
Frank almost ran from the saloon and hurried down the street to Dorfelt's stable.
He was stared at in the same wondering amazement when he asked for Cimarron Bill.
"Mebbe you has urgent business with that gent?" said one man.
"I have," answered Merry. "He shot Ben File about ten minutes ago, and I am after him."
"Waal, you'll have to hustle to ketch him, an' I 'lows it's jest as well fer you. His hoss was saddled jest now, an' I opine he's well out o' town by this time."
Frank listened to hear no more. On the run, he set out to find his friends.
Singularly enough, not one of them knew anything of his arrest, although they had heard of the shooting. He found them in short order, and what he told them in a very few words stirred them from lassitude to the greatest excitement.
[Pg 268]
"Fellows," he said, "I'm going to run Cimarron Bill down if it takes a year! I've given my word to Ben File that I would bring Bill back. I mean to make good. Are you with me in this chase?"
They were with him to a man.
[Pg 269]
Away on the horizon, riding to the southeast, was a black speck of a horseman as Frank, Bart, Jack, and Ephraim galloped out of town on fresh mounts secured by Merry.
"There he is!" cried Frank. "We mustn't lose him! We must keep him in view and run him down before nightfall. Can we do it?"
"We can try!" said Bart grimly.
These young fellows seemed made of iron. All their weariness had vanished, and they sat in their saddles like young Centaurs, with the exception of Gallup, who could not be graceful at anything.
"This is what might well be called the strenuous life," observed Jack Ready. "It's almost too much for my delicate constitution. I fear my health will be undermined and my lovely complexion will be ruined."
"He has seen us," declared Frank. "He knows we are after him! It's going to be a hard chase."
"How about June Arlington?" asked Bart.
"When I gave Ben File my word to bring Cimarron Bill back I was under arrest for kidnaping June Arlington. Had I not made that promise I might still be under arrest. I must keep my word to File. I hope to do something for June later."
[Pg 270]
So they rode into the scorching desert, seeming to be gaining on the man ahead for a time.
The sun poured down mercilessly. Alkali dust rose and filled their nostrils. Red lizards flashed before them on the ground at rare intervals. And far ahead the black speck held into the distance.
"He knows where he's going, fellows," said Frank. "He's not the man to strike blindly into the desert. He'll come to water and feed before his horse gives out, and so we must find the same."
But fate seemed against them. Afar on the desert a haze arose and grew and became a beautiful lake, its shores lined with waving trees. And in this mirage the fugitive was swallowed up and lost. When the lake faded and vanished the black speck could be seen nowhere on the plain.
"Vanished into a gully of some sort," said Frank. "We must find just what has become of him."
So they kept on; but in time they came to feel that the search was useless. Water they had brought for themselves, together with some canned food; but the only relief they could give the horses was by pouring a little water over a sponge and wiping out the dry mouths of the poor animals.
They were forced to turn aside and seek some hills, where Frank felt certain there was a spring.
Thus it was that nightfall found them at the spring, but Cimarron Bill was gone, none of them knew where. There was feed for the horses in the little valley, and they made the best of it.
[Pg 271]
Frank was far from pleased. Everything had gone wrong since their arrival in Holbrook, and the prospect was most discouraging.
"By gum! it's too bad to hev to give it up," said Ephraim.
Frank shot him a look.
"I have no intention of giving it up," he said. "But I confess that I made one bad mistake."
"What was that?"
"I left Crowfoot back there in Schlitzenheimer's saloon playing poker."
"You think he'll be skinned, do you?" said Bart.
"Oh, I'm not worrying about that. The old reprobate can take care of himself. I knew it would be almost impossible to drag him away from that game, and that was why I did not bother with him. Didn't want to lose the time. But that redskin can follow a trail that would bother a bloodhound. If we had taken him at the start, he'd never lost the scent."
They lay on the ground and watched the heavens fill with bright stars. The heat of the day melted into coolness, and all knew it would be cold before morning.
Frank had anticipated that they might have to spend the night in this manner, and blankets had been brought.
They seemed alone in the wild waste, with no living thing save their horses within miles and miles. So, with no fear of attack, they wrapped their blankets about them and slept.
[Pg 272]
The wind swept almost icy through the little valley before morning dawned. As the eastern sky grew pale Frank opened his eyes and sat up.
A moment later a shout from his lips aroused the others.
Merry was staring at a familiar figure in a dirty red blanket. In their very midst old Joe lay stretched, and apparently he had been sleeping as soundly as any of them. Nor were his slumbers broken by Merry's shout, which astounded Frank beyond measure, for never before had he known the old fellow to sleep like that. Always when he had stirred he had found the beady eyes of the redskin upon him.
"Behold!" said Jack Ready. "Lo, the noble red man is again within our midst. But how came it thus?"
"Waal, may I be honswizzled!" grunted Gallup.
Frank flung aside his blanket.
"Something is the matter with him!" he said, in a tone that indicated anxiety. "If there wasn't, he'd not sleep this way. I wonder what it is. Is he dead?"
But when the red blanket was pulled down it was found that Joe lay with a quart bottle clasped to his heart in a loving embrace. The bottle was fully two-thirds empty.
"That explains it!" said Merry, in deep disgust. "The old dog is drunk as a lord! That's how we happen to have the pleasure of finding him asleep. I'll give any man fifty dollars who will catch him asleep when he is perfectly sober."
[Pg 273]
"What a picture he doth present!" said Ready. "Look upon it! And yet there is something in it to bring sadness to the heart. Behold how tenderly he doth hold the long-necker to his manly buzzum! 'Tis thus that many a chap hugs a destroyer to his heart."
"The old sinner!" said Hodge. "I don't see how he got here without arousing any of us. There's his horse, picketed near the other animals."
Frank stooped and tried to take the bottle from Joe's clasp, but the sleeping Indian held it fast.
"Go heap better five dol's," he muttered in his sleep.
"He's still playing poker," said Frank.
He gave Crowfoot a hard shake.
"Wake up, you copper-colored sot!" he cried. "Wake up and see what you've got in your hands."
"Four king," mumbled Joe thickly. "Heap good!"
At this the boys laughed heartily.
"That's a pretty good hand!" said Frank. "It takes four aces or a straight flush to beat it."
Then he wrenched the bottle away, whereupon the redskin awoke at once.
"Mine! mine!" he exclaimed, sitting up.
"It's poison," said Frank, and smashed the bottle.
With a snarl of fury, the Indian staggered to his feet and made for Merry, drawing a wicked-looking knife.
"Look out!" cried Gallup, in consternation.
Frank leaped to meet old Joe, clutching his wrists and holding him helpless, while he gazed sternly into the bloodshot eyes of the drunken old man.
[Pg 274]
"What's this, Crowfoot?" he demanded. "Would you strike Strong Heart with a knife? Would you destroy the brother of Indian Heart? Has the poison firewater of the white man robbed you of your senses?"
"Firewater Joe's!" exclaimed the redskin. "No right to spill um! No right! No right!"
"I did it for your own good, Crowfoot," said Merry quietly. "You are in bad shape now. I want you to come out of it. You may be able to help us. What you need is a good drink of water."
"Ugh! Water heap good. Joe he take some."
Immediately Frank released the old man's wrists, and Joe slipped his knife out of sight with something like a show of shame.
In another moment Merry had his canteen, filled it at the spring, and handed it to Crowfoot, who gravely took it and began to drink. The boys stood around, and their eyes bulged as the old man held the canteen to his mouth, tipping it more and more skyward, a deep gurgling coming from his throat. He continued to drink until the canteen was quite emptied, when he lowered it with perfect gravity, wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and observed:
"Joe him a little dry!"
"Well, I should say so!" smiled Frank. "Your interior must have been as parched as an alkali desert, Joe."
"If he takes many drinks like that," said Ready, with a queer twist of his mug, "there'll be a drought[Pg 275]in this country that will make an ordinary dry spell look like a back number."
Crowfoot did not smile. Giving back the canteen, he sat down on the ground, resting his elbows on his knees and taking his head in his hands. He was the picture of misery and dejection.
"Injun big fool!" he groaned. "Last night feel much good; to-day feel a lot bad. Big pain in head."
"We've all been there many's the time," sang Jack Ready softly.
Then the eccentric chap sat down on the ground beside the redskin, about whom he placed an arm.
"Joseph," he said, "methinks I know how it is! I have felt that way heap often. Ugh! Sick all over."
Joe grunted.
"Nothing worth living for."
Another grunt.
"Much rather be dead with the beautiful daisies growing on my grave than living in such misery."
Again a grunt.
"Internal organs all out of gear, stomach on a strike, head bigger than a barrel. Are those the symptoms, Joseph?"
"Much so," confessed old Joe.
"Joseph, you have my sympathy. You've never been to college, but you have received part of a college education. I have taken my degree in that branch. I'm a P. M. of J. C.—Past Master of Jag Carriers. But I have reformed, and now 'lips that touch wine shall never touch mine.' Joseph, I would reclaim you.[Pg 276]I would woo you tenderly from the jag path that leadeth to destruction. It is broad and inviting at first, but toward the finish it is rough, and hubbly, and painful to travel. Pause while there is yet time. My heart yearns to save you from destruction. Listen to the pearly words of wisdom, that drop from my sweet lips. Shun the jag juice and stick to the water-wagon. Heed this advice and your days shall be long ere you pass to the happy hunting-grounds."
"Heap talk a lot," said Joe; "no say anything. Make Injun lot sicker!"
Gallup laughed heartily, slapping his knee.
"That's right, by gum!" he cried. "The wind blows ev'ry time Jack opens his maouth."
"You are jealous," said Ready. "You are jealous of my wisdom and eloquence. Get thee behind me, Nose Talk! Your face is painful to look upon."
"Don't you go to makin' that kind of gab!" snapped Gallup. "If yeou do, dinged if I don't jolt ye one in the slats!"
"Such language! Slats! I'm shocked! Never have you heard words of slang ripple from my tuneful vocal chords. I disdain such frivolity! Slang gives me a pain! Go lay down!"
"Lay!" snorted Ephraim. "I'm no hen!"
"Let's have breakfast," said Hodge. "We may as well get on the move before it grows too hot."
It did not take long to prepare breakfast, but old Joe seemed to grow ill at the sight of food. All he wanted was water, and he threatened to drink the[Pg 277]weak little spring dry. After a time, he seemed more inclined to talk.
"No ketch Cim'r'n Bill?" he said.
"So you found out we were after him?" said Frank.
"Ugh!" nodded the Indian. "Joe no big fool only when firewater is to get. He play poke', all time him keep ear open. Mebbe him learn a whole lot."
"It's quite likely. If you had been with us yesterday, we might have stuck to Bill's trail. Now it is lost, and he may get away."
"Crowfoot he know how find Bill."
"What's that? You know how to find him?"
"Ugh!"
"Well, that is interesting, for I am bound to find him. I gave Ben File my word to bring Bill back, and I'm going to keep that promise. If you can help——"
"You bet!" grunted Joe.
"How did you find out so much?"
"Joe him take drink in saloon. Keep much careful not git full. Make um believe so. Go sleep. Hear men talk in whisper. Waugh! Find out a heap."
"Well, you're a clever old rascal!" cried Merry; "and I'm in love with you!"
"Joe him play game pritty slick," said the Indian. "Same time him get one, two, three drink. That bad. Make um want heap more. Make um take firewater when um git out town."
"So you really got drunk because you were trying[Pg 278]to do me a good turn?" said Merry. "Joe, I appreciate it! But what did you hear?"
"Bill him go to Sunk Hole."
"Sunk Hole?" cried Frank. "That place?"
"Where's that?" asked Hodge, who was deeply interested.
"Down in the White Mountain region, near the head of Coyote Creek."
"Why did you exclaim, 'That place?'"
"Because it is a camp made up of the worst characters to be found in the Southwest. It is a place without law and order of any sort. Murderers, gamblers, and knaves in general flee there when in danger. They are banded together to defy the law. Travelers who happen into that wretched place seldom come forth. At times the ruffians quarrel among themselves and shoot and kill with impunity. The people of the Territory have more than once asked that the place be invaded by troops and wiped off the map. It is a standing disgrace."
"An' Cimarron Bill has gone there?" asked Ephraim Gallup, his eyes bulging.
"So Joe says."
"Waal, I ruther guess yeou'll take a couple of thinks afore ye foller him any furder."
"I shall follow him into Sunk Hole if I live!" declared Merry grimly; "and I mean to bring him out of the place, dead or alive. I do not ask the rest of you to risk your lives with me. You are at liberty to turn back. Joe——"
[Pg 279]
"Him stick by Strong Heart!" declared the old Indian quickly. "You bet!"
"Thank you, Joe!" said Frank. "I shall need you to show me the road to the place, for I have heard Sunk Hole is not easy to find."
"I hope," said Bart Hodge quietly, "that you do not fancy for a moment that I'm not going with you? I don't think you would insult me, Frank, by entertaining such a thought. I shall be with you through thick and thin."
"Dear me!" said Ready. "How brave you are! Please stand in the glow of the limelight where we can admire your heroic pose! La! la! You are a sweet creature, and one to make the matinée girls rave with adoration."
"Don't get so funny!" growled Hodge, who always took Ready's chaffing with poor grace.
"Softly! softly!" smiled Jack, with a flirt of his hand. "Let not your angry passions rise. You can't play the bold and fearless hero any better than can your humble servant. I'm in this, and you want to watch me and note what a bold front I put on. I'll wager a lead nickle you will begin to think me utterly fearless, and all the while, beyond a doubt, I'll be shaking in my boots. Oh, I can make an excellent bluff when I have to."
"Bluff heap good sometime," said Crowfoot. "Mebbe bluff take pot."
"But it's a mighty poor thing if the other fellow suspects and calls," said Jack.
[Pg 280]
"Waal," drawled Gallup, "darn my punkins! I s'pose I'm in fer it, but I kinder wisht I was to hum on the farm."
Frank knew the Vermonter well enough not to fancy by those words that Ephraim was badly frightened. It was Gallup's way of expressing himself, and, even though he might be afraid in advance, the tall, lank fellow always showed up well "in a pinch."
"Then it's settled," said Merry. "We all go."
"Joe him not talk all he find out," put in the Indian.
"Is there more? Well, give it to us quick. There are many miles of alkali between here and Sunk Hole."
"Joe him hear men whisper 'bout gal."
"Eh? About a girl?"
"Ugh!"
"Then it must be about June Arlington? What did they say?"
"Mebbe Bill him know where she is."
"What?" cried Merry, clutching the redskin by the arm. "Is that possible?"
"Reckon um heap so."
"Then there is a double reason why I should get my hands on Cimarron Bill!"
"Mebbe Joe he no hear right; no could ketch all men whisper. He think gal she be took to Sunk Hole."
Frank reeled, his face going white.
"Merciful Heaven!" he gasped. "June Arlington, innocent little June! in that dreadful place? Come,[Pg 281]fellows, we must go! June Arlington there? The thought is horrifying! If that is true, Cimarron Bill may go free until I can do my best to get June out of that sink of wickedness! Come, fellows—come!"
"We are ready!" they cried, in response.
[Pg 282]
The Great Dipper indicated by its position that the hour was not far from midnight. Crowfoot halted and pointed downward, where, in the gloom of a round valley, a few lights twinkled.
"Sunk Hole!" he said.
"At last!" breathed Frank.
The others stood in silence, looking down at those lights. Suddenly they started, for to their ears came the sound of music, dimly heard because of the distance.
"Perchance my ears deceive me," said Ready; "but I fancy I hear the soothing strains of a fiddle."
"Sure as fate!" exclaimed Bart Hodge.
"Listen!" cautioned Merry.
There were other sounds, a sing-song cry at intervals, and then hoarse laughter and several wild whoops.
"By gum!" exclaimed Gallup. "Saounds jest like one of them air country dances they uster hev over to Billing's Corners, Varmount. The boys called them 'hog wrastles.'"
"See," said Merry, "there is one place that seems more brightly lighted than the others. It's right in[Pg 283]the center of the other lights. Fellows, I believe there is a dance going on down there!"
"Just what I'm beginning to think," said Bart.
"My! my! How nice!" exclaimed Jack. "Let's go right down and get into it! Balance your partners all! All hands around! Let her sizzle!"
"That would be a splendid place for you to get into a dance!" said Frank sarcastically.
"But a dance there!" exclaimed Hodge.
"It does seem mighty strange," agreed Frank. "Still something of the kind is going on. Hear 'em yell!"
And now they could faintly hear the sound of feet keeping time to the music.
"We've struck this place in a most excellent time to get into it," said Merry. "I suppose one of us ought to go back and watch the horses."
The horses had been left in a little pocket some distance behind and they had climbed on foot to the point where they could look down into the round valley.
"No need watch um now," said Joe. "Um hosses all picket fast. We go down there, better go quick."
"Correct," agreed Frank. "Just show us how to get down."
"Follow," said the redskin. "Take heap care."
The path over which he led them, if path it may be called, was precarious enough. At times they felt that they were on the edge of some precipice, with a great fall lying beneath. But the aged redskin went forward with surprising swiftness, causing them all to strain[Pg 284]every nerve to keep up with him, and in time he brought them down into the valley.
"Take lot care," cautioned Crowfoot. "Have guns reddy. No can tell. May have to use um 'fore git out."
"It's quite likely," said Merry grimly.
So they all made sure that their pistols could be drawn quickly and readily, and then they crept toward the dark huts, from the windows of which lights gleamed.
The sounds of fiddling and dancing grew plainer and plainer. Now and then a shout would awake the echoes.
"Where do they find their 'ladies' for a dance?" asked Hodge wonderingly.
"Oh, there are a few women in this hole," answered Merry. "Perhaps others have come in."
They reached the first hut and paused where they could peer along the street, if such it could be called, for the huts had been built here and there, so that the road between them zig-zagged like a drunken man.
In the very center of the place was the building, somewhat larger than its neighbors, from which came the sounds of revelry. Doors and windows were wide open. The music having stopped, there might be heard a hum of voices, and then the wild, reckless laugh of a woman floated out upon the night air.
Frank shuddered a little as he heard the sound, which, to his ears, was more pitiful and appalling than any cry of distress that could fall from female lips.
[Pg 285]
"Poor creature!" he thought. "To what depths has she fallen!"
They went forward again, slipping around a corner, and Merry stumbled and fell over the body of a man that was lying prone on the ground.
"Hold on!" he whispered. "Let's see what we have here. It's a man, but I wonder if he is living or dead."
He knelt and felt for the man's heart.
"Living all right," he declared; "but dead in one sense—dead drunk! Whew! what a vile smell of liquor!"
"Let him lie," said Hodge.
"I have a fancy to take a peep at him," said Frank. "Hold still. I want a match. I have one."
Bringing out a match, he struck it and shaded it with his hands, throwing the light on the prostrate man.
The light of the match showed them that the fellow was an unusually large Mexican, dressed after the custom of his people in somewhat soiled finery.
"Dead to the world!" sighed Jack Ready softly.
The match died out in Frank's fingers, but Merry did not rise.
"What are you doing?" asked Jack. "Are you accumulating his valuables?"
"Hardly," said Merry. "I'm thinking."
"Can such a thing make you think! What is passing in your massive brain?"
"I have an idea."
[Pg 286]
"That's more than Ready ever hed," muttered Gallup.
"Fellows," said Frank, "this man's clothes ought to be a fairly good fit for me."
"Well, what of it?"
"I'm going to wear them. Get hold here, and we'll carry him aside where there'll be little chance that any one will stumble upon us. Let's move lively."
They did as directed, although wondering why Frank should wish to exchange clothes with the drunken Mexican.
[Pg 287]
A low-ceiled room with a bar at the end near the door. The odor of smoke, liquor, and perspiration. The place lighted with oil-lamps having dirty chimneys. The lights of the lamps dancing and flaring to the stamp of many heavy-shod feet. A maze of human beings whirling, shifting, prancing, and cutting figures on the floor. Rough-looking men, bearded and armed; disheveled women, their faces glowing with excitement and from the effects of drink. At the far end of the room an old man, mounted on a square box and seated on a chair, sawing away for dear life at his fiddle, while he called the figures in a sing-song tone.
And this was the way the fiddler called:
"First couple balance and swing,Promenade the inside ring,Promenade the outside ring,Balance and swing and cast off six,Ladies to the right and gents to the left.Swing the one you swung before,Down the center and cast off four,Swing the one that comes to you,Down the center and cast off two."
"First couple balance and swing,Promenade the inside ring,Promenade the outside ring,Balance and swing and cast off six,Ladies to the right and gents to the left.Swing the one you swung before,Down the center and cast off four,Swing the one that comes to you,Down the center and cast off two."
The men were such as most women would avoid. With few exceptions, they had wicked faces. They[Pg 288]had been drinking, and at intervals some elated and enthusiastic fellow would utter a blood-curdling yell.
But the figures they cut were laughable at times. They "spanked 'er down" furiously. They seized their partners and swung them until often they were lifted off their feet. But those were not the sort of women to mind.
Three or four of the citizens of Sunk Hole were married. Two had daughters old enough to be present at the dance. Other "ladies" had come in from the surrounding country, brought there by their partners.
There were a number of Mexicans in the crowd, and three or four Mexican women.
Into this smoky room came yet another Mexican, a young man, dressed in soiled finery, his wide-brimmed high-peaked hat shading his face. He had a little mustache that was pointed on the ends, and he walked with a swagger. Immediately on entering he made for the bar and called for a drink.
Had any one been watching him closely that person must have noticed that he did not drink the stuff put out to him, but slyly and deftly tossed the contents of the glass into a corner under the bar.
This newcomer was Frank Merriwell, who had disguised himself as well as possible and boldly walked into this den of ruffians.
Having pretended to drink, Frank stood back in a retired spot and looked the dancers over.
In a moment his eyes fell on Cimarron Bill, who had[Pg 289]a Mexican girl for a partner and was enjoying himself in his own peculiar way.
Frank knew it would not be safe to come face to face with Bill, although he saw at once that the desperado had been drinking heavily and could barely "navigate" through the mazes of the dance.
"Gents chassé and put on style,Resash and a little more style—Little more style, gents, little more style,"
"Gents chassé and put on style,Resash and a little more style—Little more style, gents, little more style,"
sang the fiddler; and the dancers strictly obeyed the admonition by putting on all the style of which they were capable.
Under different circumstances Merry would have been amused by the spectacle; and even now, for all of his peril, he was greatly interested.
Cimarron Bill was not habitually a hard drinker, but on this occasion he had surprised everybody present by the amount of whisky he had imbibed. He seemed determined to get intoxicated, and it was plain that he was making a success of it.
Frank did not wish to dance if he could avoid it, knowing he might be brought face to face with Bill in the course of some of the figures.
All around the sides of the room men were leaning and looking on, some of them laughing and calling to various dancers.
"Go it, Seven Spot!"
"Spank it down, Dandy!"
"Steady, Pie Face! Your left hoof belongs to the church!"
[Pg 290]
"See Honeydew! He's a holy terror!"
"Watch Lanky Jim cut a pigeon wing!"
"Say, Big Kate can dance some! You bet your boots!"
"Hi! hi! There goes Sweet William, plumb off his pins!"
Now the fiddler was calling:
"First lady out to the right;Swing the man that stole the sheep,Now the one that packed it home,Now the one that eat the meat,Now the one that gnawed the bones."
"First lady out to the right;Swing the man that stole the sheep,Now the one that packed it home,Now the one that eat the meat,Now the one that gnawed the bones."
Frank found an opportunity to slip along the wall toward the back of the room. No one seemed to pay any attention to him until he accidentally stepped on a big fellow's foot. Instantly he was given a shove, and the man growled:
"What in thunder ails ye, you yaller-skinned greaser? Keep off my corns, ur I'll make hash o' you with my toad-sticker!"
"Pardon, señor, pardon!" entreated Merry, in a soft voice, with an accent that seemed perfectly natural. "I deed not mean to do eet, señor."
"Ef I'd 'lowed ye did I'd sure slashed ye without no talk whatever!" was the retort.
Having no desire to get into trouble, Merry took great pains to avoid stepping on another foot, and he finally reached the point he sought. In the corner at the far end of the room there was not so much light. A bench ran along there, and Frank found a seat on[Pg 291]it, where he could lean against the thin board partition, and he did not mind if some of the men stood up before him so that he was partly screened.
Merry knew full well that he had done a most reckless thing in entering that place, where all around him were ruffians and murderers; but there was something about the adventure that he relished, and the danger gave it a spice that was far from disagreeable.
He thanked his lucky stars that this dance had given him the opportunity to get in there without attracting any more attention.
"Meet your partner and all chaw hay,You know where and I don't care,Seat your partner in the old armchair."
"Meet your partner and all chaw hay,You know where and I don't care,Seat your partner in the old armchair."
That particular dance ended with this call from the fiddler; but there were no armchairs in which the ladies could be seated, and Merry crowded up into the corner in order to be as inconspicuous as possible and to escape being disturbed.
There was a general rush for the bar, the fiddler getting down from his box and hastening across the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Some of the women accompanied their partners to the bar and drank with them.
Such depravity was not pleasant to witness, and Merry felt pity for the fallen creatures. Sentiment, however, he sought to put aside, thinking only of the dangerous mission that had brought him into that nest of gambolling tigers.
Two men sat down near Merry. They had been[Pg 292]dancing, and observed, with some lurid embellishments, that it was hot. Then one of them said something that interested Frank.
"Bill's goin' it a whole lot stiff to-night."
"That's whatever. Never saw him punish the razzle juice this way afore."
"You know why, mebbe."
"Waal, I opine he's some irked up over his mistake in Holbrook. First time he ever shot the wrong gent. He warn't gunnin' fer File. It was another galoot he was after."
"I jedge that's the matter with him. Bandy tried to joke him some about it, an' Bandy came mighty near gettin' his."
"Bandy's a dern fool! He should 'a' knowed better than to shoot off his mouth at Bill."
"I say so. But Bill he's a-playin' a right steep game in that thar gal business."
"Bill kin play his keerds. You let him alone."
"No danger o' me chippin' in. They say the gal's folks are a heap rich."
"I opine so, else Bill he'd never taken so much trouble over her."
"Oh, I dunno; she's the purtiest leetle thing I ever set my blinkers on. I 'lowed mebbe Bill was lookin' some fer a wife."
"Wife—northin'! He's lookin' fer the dust. Why, he sent word as how he'd skin the galoot what dared hurt her or even say somethin' impolite afore her."
[Pg 293]
"Let me tell you somethin'."
"Fire erway."
"Han'some Charley has seen that gal, an' I 'low he's taken a likin' to her a whole lot. Bill better look sharp, ur Charley will sure get away with her."
"I ain't the one to give Charley no advice, but if I were, I'd whisper fer him to think twice afore tryin' it."
"Charley's some clever. Look, thar he is a-drinkin' with Bill now. Say, pard, I've got an idee that Charley's doin' his best to load Bill to-night. If that's so, he's got somethin' up his sleeve, an' we want to look right sharp fer a breeze afore this dance is over. I'm goin' to stand ready to duck instanter when the shootin' begins."
Frank could peer past a man in front of him without moving and see the person referred to as Handsome Charley, who was drinking with Cimarron Bill at the bar. This man was larger than Bill and heavier. He had a flushed, reckless face that wore a smile nearly all the time. He had a dark mustache and imperial, and there was about him the atmosphere of a dashing desperado.
Charley at this time seemed very friendly with Cimarron Bill, and it was plain that he was urging Bill to drink again.
"All right," thought Frank; "I'll watch you both."
At this moment a man appeared in the open door and looked timidly into the room.
At sight of this man Frank gave a start in spite[Pg 294]of his wonderful nerve, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that he kept himself from crying forth a name.
Eliot Dodge, the crafty lawyer with the blue nose, stood there in the door. No wonder Merry was astounded to see that man appear in such a place and at such a time.
Dodge was rather pale, but an expression of relief flashed over his face when his eyes fell on Cimarron Bill. Then he stepped into the room.
Bill seemed no less astonished, but he advanced to meet Dodge, holding out his hand, which the lawyer accepted.
"However is this, Mr. Dodge?" inquired Bill. "I sure am a whole lot surprised to meet up with you here—that is, I'm surprised to have it occur so soon. Will you wash the dust out of your throat?"
"Don't care if I do," said Dodge, and they crowded nearer to the bar.
"Bill, I thinks mebbe you might present yer friend," chipped in Handsome Charley.
"Waal, Charley," said Bill, "this yere is Mr.——"
"Lewis," interposed Dodge quickly.
"Mr. Lewis," said Bill queerly. "Mr. Lewis, permit me to make you acquainted with Charley Sears, generally called Handsome Charley. Will you take a little pisen with us, Charley?"
Handsome Charley gave Dodge his hand, which the lawyer shook gingerly, his coolness causing the fellow to frown.
[Pg 295]
They all drank, and Bill lurched, catching at the edge of the bar.
"'Scuse me," he said, with unusual politeness. "Always makes me dizzy to dance. There is a right good lot of whirlin' around in it, you know."
Charley smiled.
"You had a fine partner that last dance, Bill; but you ought to bring out that handsome gal an' take a spin with her, man. I 'low it ain't right to keep her under kiver when every gent yere is yearnin' to set eyes on her."
"They'll have to keep right on yearnin'," averred Bill, frowning.
"You're gettin' a whole lot selfish," declared Charley. "Are you afeared some other gent will git her away from ye if you brings her out?"
"None at all, Charley. But she ain't for this gang to hustle around any, and that's level."
At this the other seemed to take offense.
"I opine, Bill," he said, "that you don't set yourself up as a heap better than the rest of this gang?"
The cruel face of Cimarron Bill took on an expression that was a warning.
"Charley," he said, in a low, smooth voice, with one hand on the bar to steady himself, "I am willing to confess that you disturbs me some. I has my reasons for not bringin' the gal out, an' you'll sure excuse me if I don't recite them none at present. Some other time I may explain."
But Charley persisted.
[Pg 296]
"Some other time it will be too late," he said. "I'm certain looking to dance one set with the little beauty myself, Bill."
"Sorry to disappoint you," returned Bill; "but the young lady doesn't dance none, if you want to know one good reason."
"Well, at least, you can bring her forth and permit us to gaze upon her a while," suggested Charley.
"Not to-night," was the firm retort.
"Then it certain will seem a heap like you thought her too good for us, and the boys won't like that a great deal if I tell 'em so."
Bill leaned on the bar, his back against it and his elbows resting so that his hands were close to his hips. In that manner he stood perfectly steady, and he was in a position to draw his pistols quickly.
"Charley," he said, his voice like the purring of a cat, all the thickness seeming gone from his tongue, while his wicked eyes narrowed to two thin slits, "I don't think you'll go for to say anything whatever to the boys on this point. You are my friend, I opine. Am I sure right on that?"
At this juncture Handsome Charley realized all at once that Bill was not yet drunk enough not to be deadly. Charley's eyes noted in a flash how the man had steadied himself and was ready for anything, and Charley decided that the time was not yet ripe for bringing on a quarrel.
"Of course I'm your friend, Bill!" he said, with pretended heartiness, "and whatever you says goes[Pg 297]with me. I was just speakin' because I has heard some of the boys growlin' over this business. That's all."
Bill smiled, but his smile was anything but pleasant.
"If any o' the boys growl around in your hearin' some more," he said, "refer 'em to me, please. I reckons I can certain stop their growlin' in a hurry."
"All right, all right!" nodded Charley.
"And you, pard," Bill went on—"you, I judge, will say to them that I know my business a-plenty, and that you backs me up. Eh?"
"Sure, sure, Bill."
"I thought you would," nodded the desperado with the deadly eyes. "I opined I could depend on you."
"You bet! Have another drink, you and Mr. Lewis?"
"Excuse us, please," urged Bill. "I hates most mortally to decline; but I has some business to transact with Mr. Lewis, an' I says business first an' pleasure arterwards. Arter we has settled the business I'll stand up here to this yere bar an' drink with you as long as the pisen lasts. Is that all satisfactory like?"
This question was put in a manner that indicated beyond question that it would be best for Charley to acknowledge that it was satisfactory, and the acknowledgment was made.
"Thanks," bowed Bill. "You're a sure enough gent, Charley, an' I'll shoot the galoot what says to the contrary! An' now I reckons you'll excuse us a while.[Pg 298]Come, Mr. Lewis, thar's a small back room, an' we'll jest step in thar."
Through this Dodge had stood there pale to the lips, with the exception of his blue nose, for he realized that these men were on the verge of a disagreement, and he understood that a disagreement between them meant shooting in short order. Bill, however, had won out by a display of calm assurance and nerve, which was remarkable, considering his condition.
The ruffian slipped an arm through that of Dodge, and they crossed the floor and passed through a narrow door just as the fiddler resumed his seat and called for the men to select partners and form for the next dance.
Frank had watched every move, realizing full well that there was a possibility of a "gun play" between those two desperadoes. He was unable to hear what passed between them, but still he fancied he knew the bulk of it, and, in spite of himself, in spite of the character of the man, he could not help admitting Cimarron Bill's masterfulness. Frank comprehended that Charley had thought at first of forcing a quarrel, but had been cowed by Bill's manner.
The agitation of Eliot Dodge was also quite apparent. Merry had already marked Dodge down as a coward.
When the two men passed into the back room Frank longed to follow them. He sat there, wondering what course to pursue.
That June Arlington was somewhere in Sunk Hole[Pg 299]he now felt certain. The talk of the two men who had been seated near him was assurance enough on that point.
But where was she? How was he to find and rescue her? This task he now understood as the most important one before him and the one to which he was to give his attention at once, regardless of the capture of Bill, which could be accomplished later.
As he sat there, thinking the affair over and seeking to decide on some course to pursue, he was surprised and pleased to distinctly hear Bill speaking in the room beyond the board partition. These boards were thin and badly matched, so that there were large cracks at intervals. One of these cracks happened to be just behind Frank's head. By shifting his position slightly, he brought his ear close to the crack.
The fiddler was tuning up, and the rough men and women were laughing as they formed on the floor for the next dance.
Frank was able to concentrate his mind on anything he chose, at the same time becoming quite oblivious to everything else; and now he shut out the sounds of the room in which he sat and listened with all his ability to hear what passed beyond the partition.
"Sure, partner," Bill's voice was saying, "it surprises me a whole lot to see you come pokin' in here. However did you git here?"
"Terry came with me all the way. You said he would bring word to you from me, but I could not wait. I wanted to have a talk with you face to face,[Pg 300]without trusting to any middle man. I felt that I must do it, and that's what brought me here for one thing."
"Waal, here you are, and now open up. I'm ready to listen to anything whatever you has to say."
"In the first place," Frank distinctly heard Dodge say, "Ben File is dead."
"Say you so?" exclaimed Bill, and his voice indicated regret. "I allow I'm a-plenty sorry."
"It was bad work."
"That's right. Don't know how I happened to do anything like that. Never did afore. I saw Merriwell make a jump, and I thought from the way he done it the bullet sure had gone clean through him."
"And you never touched him!"
"Don't rub it in harder than you kin help, Mr. Dodge!"
"Hush! Don't speak that name here! It must not get out that I'm in this game! It would ruin me!"
"That's all right, pard; no danger. Hear the racket out yonder in that room. Nobody would ever think o' tryin' to hear what we're sayin'."
"Still it will be better to keep on calling me Lewis. It's a dangerous game we've tackled, and I want to get it through in a hurry now. That's why I'm here."
"Waal, whatever do you say is the next move?"
"Merriwell got out of Holbrook right after you."
"I knows it. The gent sure chases me a distance, but he gits lost, together with his pards, some time afore night."
[Pg 301]
"Well, now is the time to make the demand on Mrs. Arlington for the ransom money. It must be rushed along. She's in a state of mind so that she'll be sure to give up easy now. I've waited for this, and I find she will pay well to have June returned to her unharmed."
"That's a heap soothin' and agreeable news. I has waited fer you to say when it was best to make the demand on the old lady."
"And I've waited until I felt sure she was so distressed and agitated that she would yield. She did not wish her husband to know of her presence here, and so she sent no word to him at first. Now she has wired him the whole facts, and we can reckon that he'll be coming this way as fast as steam can carry him. It's best to get the whole deal through, if possible, before he shows up."
"I'm for it."
"You must write a demand on the woman for the boodle. She has diamonds and jewels with her on which she can raise ten thousand dollars. Make her raise it at once. Don't let her delay. Frighten her into it."
"I opines I can do that. I'll give her a scorcher. I'll tell her the gal is all safe an' onharmed, but she has to plunk down instanter or I'll send her one o' Miss June's fingers to hurry her up a leetle."
"That will go. I think that ought to start her."
"If you says so, I'll make it stiffer. What if I[Pg 302]adds that one o' the gal's prittey hands will foller? or an ear—mebbe that's better?"
"As you choose. Say that the money is to be placed in my hands to be delivered to your agent, who will meet me on the open plain ten miles from Holbrook in whatever direction you choose. Then I can ride out with it and come back, and you can bring the girl into town under cover of night."
"I reckon that ought to work, partner. This yere game is your plannin', an' I falls inter it because I reckons it was easier than gittin' ahead o' Merriwell an' seizin' the mine. Had I shot up Merriwell, instead o' File, I'd 'a' called on the lady hard fer the price, which, together with the money I'll get out o' this strike, would have made me easy for a right good while."
"I'm against your idea of trying to saddle the kidnaping onto Merriwell."
"Why?"
"I don't think it will go. Merriwell might return to Holbrook. If the demand for money had his name attached, his arrest would seem to put him where it would be necessary for him to produce the girl. Mrs. Arlington was for forcing him to do so when File took him. Anything like that would cause delay, and delay is something we do not want."
"Mr.—ah—Mr. Lewis, you sure reasons correct. We'll jest hitch a made-up name to the demand for money, which will be a whole lot better."
"I think so. And now let's write this demand, so[Pg 303]that I may turn about and get out of this hole immediately. You must furnish me with a fresh horse. I'm supposed now to be searching for Merriwell, several men in town having set out upon the same task, for Mrs. Arlington offered a reward for his recapture. I will be able to make a very satisfactory explanation of my absence from Holbrook."
[Pg 304]
Frank's feelings on listening to this talk, the greater part of which he was able to hear very well, may be imagined far more easily than described. At last he was in full possession of the facts relating to the abduction of June Arlington, and a greater piece of villainy had never come to his knowledge. From the first he had regarded Eliot Dodge as a scoundrel of the worst type; but he had not gaged the man as one who would enter into such a desperate scheme as this.
Merry had also learned that Ben File was dead, and, therefore, he was released from his promise to bring back Cimarron Bill.
Immediately his one thought turned to June and to the devising of some method of discovering her whereabouts and going to her rescue. Later he could think of other things; but not until this great object had been accomplished.
The voices of the men ran on in the little room, though words grew fewer, and Merry knew the demand for the ransom money was being written.
For a moment he thought of the satisfaction it would give him to expose the rascally lawyer and bring him to the end of his tether. Then he saw Handsome[Pg 305]Charley speaking quietly in the ear of a man, afterward passing on to another and yet another. There was something in Charley's manner that seemed very significant.
"There's trouble brewing for Bill," Frank decided. "It's coming as sure as fate."
He felt for his own weapons, making sure they were where he could draw them and use them without delay; but Frank did not propose to become involved in the affair unless circumstances made it impossible to keep out.
Again he listened at the crack in the partition, hoping that some word passed between Dodge and Bill would tell him where June was hidden. In this Merry was disappointed. True, Dodge asked about the girl and Bill assured him that she was perfectly safe and unharmed, but that was all.
The dance was over and another was in progress when Bill and Eliot Dodge came from that back room. Handsome Charley and his satellites were watching these two men. But they were permitted to pass to the door, where Bill shook hands with Dodge, who hurried forth into the night.
"How is that, Bill?" demanded Charley, hastily approaching. "I opine you agreed that you an' your friend would sure drink with me arter your business was over. I notices that he has hiked."
Bill turned.
"Count me in, Charley," he said easily. "Mr.—ah—Lewis, he didn't hev time. My neck is again a[Pg 306]whole lot dry, and I'll be pleased to irrigate with you."
So they stood up to the bar, and Frank saw a number of men drawing near from different directions, all coming forward quietly.
Charley openly expressed his disapproval of the conduct of Eliot Dodge.
"He certain was most onmannerly, Bill," he declared.
"Forget it," advised Bill curtly.
And this was not at all agreeable to the other.
"Mebbe I can't do that none," said Charley; "but I'll tell ye, Bill, what will help a whole lot."
"Go ahead," said Bill.
"You has right up-stairs in this same ranch a young lady what is handsome enough to make any gent fergit a wrong, an' her I most mightily wants to bring down yere."
Frank heard the words distinctly, and they gave him a start. Handsome Charley was speaking of June Arlington; there could be no doubt of that. He said June was "up-stairs in that same ranch." At last Frank had received the clue he was seeking.
More than Merry saw trouble was brewing between Charley and Bill, and now the attention of almost every person in the room was directed toward them.
Bill's face grew grim, and again his eyes narrowed and glittered.
"See yere," he said harshly, "I allows we has settled[Pg 307]the p'int in regard to her, an' so you lets it drop, Charley."
Frank knew that pistols would be out in a few seconds more. He did not wait for the men to draw and begin to shoot.
There was no flight of stairs in the room where the dance was taking place, and, therefore, he immediately decided that the stairs might be found in the back room, where the interview between Bill and Eliot Dodge had taken place. The door leading into that room was closed, but Frank slipped quickly to it, and it readily opened before his hand.
He found himself in a bare room, having but little furniture, a table, a bed, some chairs, and, as Frank had believed likely, a steep flight of stairs ran railless up one side of the room, disappearing at a dark landing above.
In a twinkling Merry was bounding lightly up those stairs, the sounds of loud and angry voices coming from the dance-room, where the music and dancing had now stopped.
Frank knew that whatever he did must be done in a hurry, for, allowing that in the trouble in the dance-room, Handsome Charley should come forth triumphant it was likely that June would be sought by some of those ruffians.
The thought of this spurred Merry on. He pictured to himself the terror of the poor girl seized by those men and dragged into the presence of the mob below.
[Pg 308]
"They shall not touch her!" he muttered. "If I can reach her, they shall not touch her!"
Then he found himself, in the gloom of the landing, against a heavy door. He sought to open it, but it was locked.
From below came the sound of a shot. Then there were shouts and other shots.
"The devils have broken loose!" exclaimed Merry, and he wondered how it fared with Bill.
In vain he felt for the fastenings of the door. His heart smote him with the fear that it would withstand any attack he might direct upon it.
Then he found a match and struck it. The light showed him something that made his heart leap with satisfaction.
Across the face of the door, lying in iron slots, was an iron bar that held it fast.
The match was dropped in a twinkling, and Frank's fingers lifted the bar from the slots and its socket. Then he easily opened the door.
At that instant it seemed as if pandemonium broke loose below. There was a perfect fusillade of shots, hoarse shouts from men and wild shrieks from women. There was likewise a terrible crash, as if some part of the building had been ripped down.
"June!" called Frank. "June! June!"
The room in which he found himself was dark and silent.
"June! June! I am a friend! Answer me!"
Still silence.
[Pg 309]
Again he brought forth and struck a match. It flared up in his fingers, and he lifted it above his head, looking all around.
Stretched on the floor in a huddled heap in one corner was the body of a girl. The glance he had obtained convinced him that it was June beyond question.
Frank sprang forward, again speaking her name and assuring her that he was a friend.
In the darkness he found her with his hands. She did not move when he touched her, and his fingers ran to her face. It was cold as marble to the touch, and a great horror filled his soul.
"Merciful God!" he groaned, starting back a little. "They have killed her. The devils!"
The shock was so great that he remained quite still on his knees for a few moments.
He was aroused by the sound of heavy feet upon the stairs.
Frank sprang up and dashed across the room to the door.
The door leading into the dance-room had been left wide open below. He saw that a number of men had entered the back room, and already two or three were on the stairs. Handsome Charley was at their head.
Frank was trapped!
At once he realized that Cimarron Bill was, beyond a doubt, lying in a pool of his own blood in the dance-room.[Pg 310]At last the most desperate and dangerous man-killer of the Southwest had met his master.
Merry had little time, however, to think of anything like this. His own life was in the utmost peril. He drew his revolver, and, with the utmost coolness, put a bullet through Handsome Charley's right shoulder.
With a cry, the man fell back into the arms of the one directly behind him, and that fellow was upset, so that all were swept in a great crash to the foot of the stairs.
"Perhaps that will hold you for a while!" muttered Frank, as he picked up the iron bar and promptly closed the door at the head of the stairs.
He had seized the bar because he thought it might be a good weapon of defense in case his revolvers should be emptied and he remained in condition to fight. Now he thought of something else, and decided that the bar might do for a prop at the door.
"There ought to be some other way out of this room," he muttered. "Isn't there even a window?"
Again he struck a match, looking around with the aid of its light.
At the end of the long room in which he found himself he fancied he must find a window. Toward this end of the room he hurried, and another match disclosed to him a window that was hidden by heavy planking. Plainly the planks had been spiked over the window after it was decided to hold June a prisoner in that room.
[Pg 311]