CHAPTER XI—RUFFIANS AT ODDS.CHAPTER XI.RUFFIANS AT ODDS.
CHAPTER XI.
RUFFIANS AT ODDS.
Some of the men were idly lounging about as they smoked, while others were playing cards. The card players were gambling, and money clinked on the table before them. A picturesque and desperate-looking group they were, yet Merriwell felt and knew by experience that they were far more dangerous in appearance than in actual fact. He had met a number of them face to face, and succeeded in holding them in check with no more than the crooked staff of the old monk for his weapon of defense. They were the kind to strike at a man’s back and cower before his face.
The card players did not always get along amicably. At times they quarreled excitedly, over their game. Finally one of them lost everything and flew into a passion, roundly berating his more lucky companions. They laughed at him as they puffed their cigarettes.
“What matters it, Pachuca?” cried one. “It is only a little. Soon you will have more.”
“Oh, yes, much more!” smiled another. “The chief has promised you plenty when he shall get the girl safely away.”
“I much prefer money to promises,” solemnly retorted Pachuca. “It’s an honest game I play. Why should I win with you?”
“Now, it’s best that you have a care with your tongue,” rather hotly returned one of the winners. “Yesterday it was your luck to win; now it is mine.”
“Is it luck you call it?” sneered Pachuca. “Ha! ha!”
“Yes, luck. What was it when you won?”
“It was my skill,” declared Pachuca loftily. “But even skill is no match for some methods.”
At this the little fellow who had won the most sprang up and struck the table with his fist, glaring across at Pachuca.
“Do you dare say to my face that I cheat?” he sharply cried. “Speak it out, if you do!”
Merry was quite satisfied by the course events seemed to be taking, for he felt that it might be much to his advantage if a quarrel between these two men followed.
Pachuca, however, shrugged his shoulders and showed his teeth, as he rolled a cigarette.
“You have won, Ramon,” he returned. “Keep the money. My turn comes.”
“Any time you like,” was the defiant challenge. “When I lose it is not like a stuck pig that I squeal.”
Then Ramon sat down as if quite satisfied, and the game proceeded without Pachuca participating further.
Merry was disappointed. Still he saw there was bad blood among the men, and he felt that what he had heard in the courtyard and since indicated dissension and dissatisfaction.
As the gamblers continued they again fell to speaking of “the girl.”
Suddenly behind him, toward the stairs, Merry heard a soft footfall. He pressed himself closer into the darkness of his niche and scarcely breathed as a man brushed past. This man halted in the door, hearing something of the words of the gamblers. Suddenly he stepped forward.
“What is this?” he demanded angrily. “Again you are talking too much. I have warned you before. You are not to speak at all of the girl. You know she’s here; let that be enough, and hold your tongues!”
“Hello, my fine friend!” whispered Frank to himself, as the light fell on the face of the newcomer and he saw that there was a scar on the man’s cheek. “So it’s you?”
Sudden silence fell upon the men. The man with the the scar singled out Ramon, at whom he pointed.
“You are always talking too much,” he declared. “When will you learn better?”
As he stood behind the table, Ramon’s hand slipped down to his sash, where it touched the hilt of a knife, and the look on his face was far from pleasant.
“It’s me you always single out, Carlos!” he exclaimed. “Why do you never talk thus to the others?”
“Because it is you who make trouble. It is you I have been compelled to caution. What think you the chief would say should he hear you?”
“The chief!” cried Ramon. “Where is he? It is easy to make promises, Carlos. How know we that we are to receive all that is promised?”
“Have you not been satisfied in the past?”
“Not always,” was the bold retort. “I am not the only one; there are others here who have not been satisfied. It is time to speak plainly. When all danger is over——”
“It is already,” was the assertion.
“How so?”
“You know the three dogs who followed the trail have been trapped. They are secure, and never from this place will they go forth.”
“But there may be others. There was another who followed us far.”
“What of him?” sneered Carlos, snapping his fingers. “He has long lost the scent. It is only these three fellows who tracked us here, and better for them had they never come. Here their bones will rot!”
“If that is true, there is now nothing to prevent the chief from carrying the girl whither he likes. Who is she? That you have not told us, Carlos.”
“That is nothing to you. It is a matter to concern the chief alone.”
“Ah! we know she must be of great value to him, elsehe would have never taken so many chances. Why was she deceived with the tale that she was to be carried to her father?”
“How know you so much?” grimly demanded Carlos.
Then suddenly he wheeled on Jimenez.
“It’s you who talk a great deal likewise!” he snarled.
Up to this point Jimenez had been silent. Now, like a flash, he sprang up and advanced to the side of Ramon.
“My tongue is my own,” he harshly said. “On it no one has placed a lock. What harm has the child done that she should be deceived? We are the men who did the work; why should not we be trusted? Answer that—if you can. I know that she was told that she should find her father here. I know, too, that he is a fugitive and has long hidden from his enemies. However, I know that she was led to believe that he had sent for her. Where is this man?”
“You fool!” burst from Carlos. “I knew that it was a mistake when you were placed to guard her. I knew it was unsafe that she should tell you too much. Wait until the chief learns of this.”
“Let him pay us what he has promised,” said Ramon. “We will take it and be silent. He may then go where he pleases and carry the girl. Carlos, we are not the only ones here who demand to see this money and to hear it clink in our hands. Comrades, it is time we show our colors. Let those who are with me stand forth.”
At this there was a stir. Some of the men seemed to hesitate, but a moment later two more men came over to the side of Ramon and Jimenez.
“This is not all,” Ramon declared. “There are still others who are not satisfied with bare promises. Let the chief satisfy us. Where is he?”
Merry had been so deeply interested that he failed to hear a step behind him, and had not he beencautiously pressed in the shadows of his nook he might have been observed. The approaching man, however, had heard sounds of a quarrel in that room, and he strode past Frank and entered by the door.
“Who calls for me?” he demanded, in a clear, steady voice. “Why all this uproar?”
“Joaquin!” muttered one, while others exclaimed, “The chief!”
And Frank recognized Felipe Dulzura!
Sudden silence fell upon them. Dulzura, whom Frank now knew to be Black Joaquin, stood boldly looking them over. Despite the assertion made by one of the men that the chief was one who avoided danger, his bearing now seemed that of utter fearlessness and command.
“Speak!” he exclaimed. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Ask Ramon,” said Carlos. “He will tell you—perhaps.”
Ramon drew himself up. The time had come that he must face the matter unflinchingly.
“It is this,” he said; “we have been promised much and have received little. Some of us are not satisfied.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Black Joaquin. “And you are one of the dissatisfied, I see.”
“I am,” was the admission; “but I am not alone. You will find that there are many more. Ask them. You will find nearly all are dissatisfied.”
The chief glanced them over, and what he saw in their faces convinced him that Ramon spoke truly. Suddenly he smiled on them in that pleasant manner of his, and his voice was soft and musical as he spoke again.
“I would not have any of my faithful fellows dissatisfied,” he declared. “If there is anything I can do in justice, let them name it.”
Carlos seemed disappointed by this unexpected manner of their leader.
“It is that you have promised us a great deal we have not received,” said Ramon.
“And is it yet time?” was the placid question.
“Why not? You said the time would come when the girl was safely yours, with no danger of pursuit. To me it seems that time has come. The three Americans who pursued you are captured and cannot escape. The girl is now yours to do with as you like. Is it strange we suspect she is a prize of great value? If she were not, why should Black Joaquin put himself to so much trouble?”
“You are right,” smiled the man Merry knew as Dulzura. “But you are hasty. It is only lately the pursuers I most feared have fallen into my hands. Had you waited a little it might have given me more satisfaction. You were always too hasty, Ramon.”
The rebuke was of the mildest sort, and Ramon accepted it without a show of anger.
“However,” continued the chief, “I can pardon you this once, but you shall be satisfied. I have not at hand all I have promised you, but it is where I can soon secure it. Nevertheless, I have something here, and it shall be divided among you.”
As he said this, he drew forth a leather pouch, which he flung with a careless gesture upon the table. It struck with a heavy thud and a slight clanking sound.
“I call upon you,” he said, “to see that it is divided equally and fairly. The rest shall be paid you soon. Carlos, I would speak with you.”
He then turned toward the door, and Carlos followed him. Outside, in the shadows, they halted not fifteen feet from Frank.
“Carlos,” said Joaquin, “not one coin more will those dogs get. I have no further use for them. You and I must abandon them and get away before the comingof another day. It is no longer well for us to remain in this land. As Black Joaquin my work is done. Can we reach Spain in safety with the girl, our fortunes are made. But those snarling curs will object if they suspect we are contemplating leaving them behind. You I depend on. You know where the wine is kept. Take this which I give you and with it drug the wine. When you have done so, bring it for them to drink. Make merry with them, and encourage them to drink deeply. They will sleep soundly after that, and we shall have no trouble. I will get the girl ready. Before those fools awaken I shall be far from here, and we can laugh at them.”
“Good!” said Carlos, having accepted from Joaquin’s hand the bottle proffered him. “It shall be done. Leave it to me.”
The chief clapped his trusted comrade upon the shoulder.
“Faithful Carlos!” he said. “With me you shall share the reward. Lose no time, for time is precious now.”
“The Americans,” questioned Carlos, “what of them?”
“Leave them where they are. Let them starve there.”
Little did they dream when they turned away that they were followed by Frank Merriwell, who observed the greatest possible caution. They separated, and it was Black Joaquin whose footsteps led Frank through many winding ways and up long flights of stairs into one of the turrets. When Joaquin unbarred the door and entered the little room up there Frank was near at hand. Merry stole forward and peered into that room, from which the light shone forth.
“She’s there!” he told himself, in deep satisfaction, as he beheld Felicia.
The captive girl had been weeping. When Joaquin saw this he spoke to her in a voice that seemed full of tenderness and compassion.
“My dear child,” he said, “why do you shed these foolish tears?”
“Oh, sir!” exclaimed Felicia, “where are the friends I saw from the window? Why are they not permitted to come to me?”
“They are near and you shall see them soon,” was the treacherous promise.
“How am I to believe you?” cried the girl. “You told me I should find my father here. You told me he was hiding here to escape his enemies. You told me he had sent for me to come to him, longing to see my face once more. I believed you. I trusted you. At your command I even deceived the good friends I knew in San Diego. Now I fear it was wrong and wicked for me to do so. Now I know it was wrong! But what was I to do? You told me, over and over, that my father would be placed in awful peril if I breathed a word of the truth.”
“Which clears up that part of the mystery,” thought Frank, as he listened outside.
“I told you nothing but the truth,” declared Joaquin. “Your father sent that message to you by me.”
“But he is not here—he is not here!” panted the distressed child. “You said I should find him here. If you deceive me in that, why not in everything?”
“Your father was here, but ere we could reach this place he found it necessary to depart. Enemies were searching for him, and he was forced to flee; but he left a message for me, telling me whither he went and directing me to bring you. Trust me, Felicia, and you shall soon see him.”
Frank quivered a little with rage as he listened to the lying wretch.
Felicia drew a little nearer and looked earnestly into the face of the man.
“Oh, I can’t believe you are deceiving me!” she said. “You do not seem so terribly wicked.”
He laughed pleasantly.
“I know it must seem suspicious to you, child; but trust me a little longer.”
“If you had only let my friends come to me!”
“Within two hours you shall be with them. Some of my men, I regret to say, I cannot trust, and so I hastened to send your friends away. They are not far from here, and we will join them. Are you ready to go, child?”
“Quite ready,” she answered.
“Then give me your hand and trust me in everything.”
She placed her hand confidingly in his, and they turned toward the door. Then Black Joaquin found himself face to face with a great surprise, for in that doorway stood Frank Merriwell, a cocked pistol leveled straight toward the scoundrel’s heart.
“Up with your hands, Joaquin!” commanded Merry sharply. “One moment of hesitation on your part and I shall pull the trigger. I will send your black soul to the bar of judgment as true as my name is Frank Merriwell!”
The villain paled and was utterly dumfounded by the marvelous appearance of the man he believed secure in the dungeon.
“Put up your hands!” palpitated Frank, and in that second command there was something that caused Black Joaquin to quickly lift his hands above his head.
“One cry, one sound, even a murmur from your lips, will cause me to shoot you on the spot,” declared the young American.
Felicia had been spellbound, but now she started forward, uttering a cry.
“Be careful,” warned Frank, not taking his eyes off Joaquin for an instant. “Don’t touch me! Keep out of the way!”
She paused and hastened to say:
“You must not hurt him, Frank. He is taking me to my father.”
“He has lied to you from start to finish, like the treacherous snake he is,” asserted Merry. “He doesn’t mean to take you to your father.”
Then he advanced two steps, and another command came from his lips.
“Face about, Joaquin,” he said, “and walk straight toward that wall. Be quick about it, too.”
Now, for all of the complaints of his followers that he seldom placed himself in danger, Black Joaquin was not a coward. Nevertheless, in those terrible, gleaming eyes of the American youth he had seen something that robbed him of his usual nerve and convinced him beyond doubt that unless he obeyed to the letter he would be shot on the spot. This being the case, he turned as directed and advanced until his face was against the wall.
“Stand thus,” said Frank, “and don’t move for your very life.”
One glance around showed him a blanket upon a couch. Behind Joaquin’s back he quickly took out and opened a knife.
“Here, Felicia, take this and cut that blanket into narrow strips. Hasten as much as possible.”
She was, however, too trembling and excited to make the needed haste. Seeing this, Frank lost no time in searching Joaquin’s person and disarming him, removing every dangerous weapon he found upon the man.
When this was done, he directed Felicia to bring the blanket, and, holding his pistol ready in his left hand, he gave her directions and assistance in cutting and tearing it into strips. As soon as one good, strong striphad been removed from the blanket Frank took it, seized Joaquin’s hands, twisting them downward and backward behind his back, and tied them thus. After this he was able to remove from the blanket further strips he needed, although as he worked his pistol was ready for instant use. All the while he kept Joaquin with his face toward the wall, three times cautioning the man against turning his head in the slightest.
With the strips removed from the blanket Joaquin’s ankles were securely tied. Then Frank unceremoniously kicked the fellow’s feet from beneath him and lowered him to the floor upon his back. The rage, fury, and hatred in the conquered fellow’s eyes was terrible to behold, but Merriwell heeded it not in the least. Deftly he rolled a wad of the blanket and forced it between Joaquin’s teeth. With another piece of the torn blanket he fastened it there, knotting a strip behind the man’s head. He took pains to make this as secure as possible, so that it would require no simple effort to remove it.
“Now, Black Joaquin, otherwise known as Felipe Dulzura,” said Frank, standing over the man and looking down on him, “we will bid you good-night. You can rest easy here until your comrades recover on the morrow and release you. Perhaps they will find you. I hope, for your sake, that you do not smother before they awaken and come here. You have my best wishes for a short life and a speedy hanging.”
With Felicia he left the chamber, closing and barring the door behind them.
Thus far Frank’s success had been enough to astonish himself, but now he thought with dismay of Dick and Brad still confined in the chamber from which he had escaped. As with Felicia he descended the stairs he paused, hearing in some distant portion of the ruins the sound of singing.
“Carlos is doing his work,” he thought. “He hasbrought them the wine. Thanks, Carlos; you have given me great assistance.”
Merry decided that it would be necessary to conceal Felicia somewhere while he sought to return to Dick and Brad by means of the secret passage.
He found his way back to the terrace from which he had first looked down into the courtyard after his escape. As they reached that place, Merry heard beneath him some slight sound that caused him to again look downward. He was surprised to see a dark figure coming from the direction of the stables and leading three horses. His surprise increased when the feet of the horses gave forth no more than a faint, muffled sound on the courtyard flagging.
“What’s up now?” he asked himself. “That must be Carlos preparing for flight. Whoever it is, he has muffled the feet of those horses. More than that, I believe they are our horses.”
The human being and the horses crossed the courtyard and disappeared into the arched passage that led outward.
“Keep close behind me, Felicia,” whispered Merry. “Be courageous. I may have to leave you for a short time; but I will return as soon as possible.”
He had decided to conceal her in the secret passage while he endeavored to return to the prison chamber. The door of the passage he found to be slightly ajar. Swinging it open, he entered, with Felicia at his heels. Barely had he advanced ten feet into the passage before he felt himself suddenly clutched by a pair of strong hands.
“Keep still, Felicia!” called Frank, knowing she would be greatly frightened by the struggle.
Instantly the hold of these hands slackened and a joyous voice exclaimed in his ear:
“Frank! Frank! my brother, is it you?”
“Dick!” gasped Frank; “how did you get here?”
“We managed to pry open a hidden door which was disclosed when a part of the wall fell after you crept into that opening,” said Dick.
“Where is Brad?”
“That’s what I’d like to know. We separated to search for you. He was to meet me here. We agreed on a signal. When you entered the passage without giving the signal I thought you must be an enemy.”
“It’s up to us now,” said Merry, “to find Brad and get away from here in a hurry. We have a fine chance to do so. I can’t explain everything, but I will tell you later. Here is Felicia.”
“Felicia!” gasped Dick.
She uttered a low cry of joy, and the cousins were clasped in each other’s arms.
“Come,” said Merry. “Moments are precious.”
“But Brad——”
“We will hope that luck may lead us to him.”
But it was something more than luck, for Brad Buckhart was returning to meet Dick as he had promised when they encountered him. He heard them, and, thinking it might be Dick, whistled the soft signal agreed upon. Immediately Dick answered, and when the Texan found them all together, he came very near throwing up his hat and giving a cowboy yell.
“Oh, great jumping horned toads!” he whispered. “If this don’t beat the record you can have my horse, saddle, and the whole blamed outfit! Talk about your miracles! So help me Davy Crockett, this is the greatest on record. You hear me gurgle!”
“There is yet danger in the air,” said Merry. “As we were seeking the passage I saw a man, leading three horses with muffled feet, crossing the courtyard below. It must have been Carlos, Black Joaquin’s lieutenant, for they planned a flight to-night, and Joaquin’s wretched gang has been drugged.”
“Guess again,” advised the Texan, chuckling. “The gent you observed was yours truly, Bradley Buckhart.”
“You?” gasped Frank, astonished.
“Precisely, pard—precisely. I was it. In my perambulations I discovered our horses, and it struck me as being something a whole lot proper to get them outside and have them where we could straddle them in a hurry when we took to our heels. I muffled their feet with the aid of blankets, and I can lead the way straight to them.”
“Brad, you’re a dandy!” laughed Frank softly. “Watch out for Carlos and lead on, you son of the Lone Star State.”
They had come down into the courtyard when somewhere above, amid the ruins, there was a sudden sound of high-pitched voices, followed by a single pistol shot. Then came silence.
“If fortune is still with us,” said Merry, “the bullet from that pistol lodged in the carcass of Carlos. Evidently he has kicked up some sort of trouble, and I fancy a little chap by the name of Ramon fired that shot.”
Outside the ruins they came upon the horses where Buckhart had concealed them. They were not long in mounting. Frank took up Felicia behind him, and away they rode into the night, with no hand raised to stay them.