CHAPTER XX—THE FINDING OF THE BABES.CHAPTER XX.THE FINDING OF THE BABES.
CHAPTER XX.
THE FINDING OF THE BABES.
“Get up yere, pard,” said one of the two men who were standing guard over Macklyn Morgan’s bivouac. “I sure hears some queer sort of a wild critter a-yowling out yander.”
Morgan himself had been eager to push forward through the night toward Merriwell’s valley, but the men lately released from the custody of Pete Curry were exhausted by their tramp and refused at nightfall to proceed farther. Therefore, it had been necessary for the party to divide or to stop where they were and make camp. The latter course had been decided upon.
Not feeling positive that Curry and his comrades would not follow them, Morgan had given orders for two of the men to remain constantly on guard through the night. Of course the guard was to be changed at intervals. Now, shortly after nightfall, one of the original two appointed to watch over the camp called his comrade for the purpose of listening to certain strange sounds which came to his ears through the darkness.
They advanced cautiously to the top of a ridge, where they halted and stood listening. The sounds could be faintly heard now and then.
“Whatever does yer make of it, partner?” asked the one who had first heard them.
“Mighty quar sounds for a wild critter to make,” declared the other.
“Just what I thought. More like some sort o’ music.”
“That’s it. Dinged if it ain’t something like a fiddle!”
“Mebbe we’d better nose out that way and see if we can diskeever what it is.”
“We leaves the camp onprotected.”
“Only for a short time. There won’t anything happen, partner. This yere standing guard is all foolishness, anyhow.”
“I reckon you’re right.”
“Then come on.”
Together they advanced in the direction from which the strange sounds seemed to proceed. As they made their way slowly and cautiously into the valley they were able to hear those sounds more and more distinctly, and before long both were satisfied that it was indeed a fiddle.
“Well, wouldn’t that chaw yer up!” muttered one. “Whoever does yer reckon is a-playing a fiddle out yere?”
“You have got me.”
“Well, we will certain find out. Have your gun ready, pard, in case we runs into a muss.”
Pretty soon they saw through the starlight two horses grazing unhobbled and unpicketed.
“Only two,” whispered one of the men. “We are as many as they be.”
“Whar are they?”
The violin was silent now, and they remained crouching and awaiting until it began again. It led them straight to the spot where little Abe sat playing beside the sleeping girl. So absorbed was he in his music, with his head bowed over the violin, that he failed to observe the approach of the men until they were right beside him and one of them stooped and took him by the shoulder. With a cry of terror, the boy sprang up.
Felicia awoke in great alarm and sat up, staring bewildered at Abe and the two men.
“Oh, ho!” said one of the guards. “What is this we finds? It is a strange bird we diskeevers.”
“There’s two,” said the other. “And, by smoke, t’other one is a gal!”
“Don’t you touch her!” shrilly screamed the boy. “Don’t you put a hand on her!”
He endeavored to jerk himself from the grip of the man who had seized him, but the strong hand held him fast.
“Whatever is the use to jump around this yere way?” said the man. “We ain’t a-hurting you none. Don’t git so excited-like. Mebbe it’s a right good thing we finds ye yere.”
“Who are they, Abe? Who are they?” whispered Felicia.
“I dunno,” confessed the boy, filled with regret and despair at his own carelessness in permitting the men to come upon them in such a manner while he was absorbed in his playing. “But they shan’t hurt yer. I won’t let um.”
“Mebbe you tells us what you’re doing yere, you two kids,” suggested one of the men.
“We’re jest lost,” said Abe.
“Only that?” laughed the man. “Well, that sure is nothing much. Perhaps if we don’t find yer you stays lost. Where did yer get lost from?”
“Oh, I know you won’t hurt us!” said Felicia quickly. “Why should you? We can’t hurt any one. My horse was frightened and ran away. Abe tried to catch him. That was how we got separated from Dick and the others.”
“Dick! Who is this yere Dick?”
Before Abe could check her, Felicia answered.
“Why, Dick Merriwell!”
“Hey?” ejaculated one of the men. “Merriwell!Why, I sure opines that name is a heap familiar. Dick Merriwell! Mebbe you means Frank Merriwell?”
“No! no! I mean Dick Merriwell, his brother.”
“His brother?” burst from both of the men.
“Yes,” said Felicia.
“Then he has a brother, has he? Well, this is right interesting and no mistake.”
“You bet it is!” ejaculated the other. “Where is this yere Dick Merriwell, Hunchy?”
It was the old hateful name which Abe detested, and his soul revolted against it.
“Don’t you call me Hunchy!” he shrilly exclaimed. “I won’t be called Hunchy!”
In his excitement he actually bristled at the ruffian.
“Ho! ho!” laughed the other man. “What do yer think of that, partner? Why, he is going ter soak me one.”
“Ho! ho!” came hoarsely. “That’s what he is. Don’t let him hit yer hard, for he’ll sure fix yer!”
The one who had addressed Abe as “Hunchy” now removed his hat and made a profound bow.
“I begs yer pardon, your royal highness,” he said. “If I treads on the tail of yer coat any, I hopes you excuses me. I am not counting to rile you up any, for I reckon you might be a whole lot dangerous.”
Abe knew this was said in derision, but he muttered:
“I won’t have anybody calling me Hunchy no more. Don’t you forget that!”
Felicia was clinging to the cripple now, and he could feel her trembling. He put one of his long arms about her and sought to reassure her by a firm pressure.
“If I hasn’t offended your highness,” said the man who had asked the question, “perhaps you tells me now where this Dick Merriwell is?”
“Don’t tell him, Abe!” whispered the girl. “They are bad men. I’m afraid of them.”
“I wist you could tell me,” said the boy. “I’d like ter find him myself.”
“Then he is somewhere yereabouts?”
“Don’t tell!” breathed Felicia again.
“I dunno ’bout that,” said Abe. “Mebbe he is two hundred miles away now. I dunno.”
“Ef he is so fur, however is it you expects ter find him in a hurry?”
Barely a moment, did the boy hesitate, and then he declared:
“Why, he was a-going through to Californy on the train. We live down on the Rio Verde. Our dad, he’s got a cattle ranch down there. Yesterday we started out to go to Flagstaff. They wouldn’t let us go alone, so we runned away. We thought mebbe we could find the way there all right, but I guess we can’t.”
The two men looked at each other in the starlight and shook their heads.
“Sounds fishy,” said one, immediately detecting that this statement conflicted with the one made by Felicia.
“A whole lot,” agreed the other.
Felicia had gasped when she heard Abe fabricate so glibly. It was a surprise to her, and she was almost sorry she had cautioned him not to tell the facts to those men.
“Well, you certain is off the trail, kids, providing you’re bound for Flagstaff. It’s right lucky we finds you. We takes you to the camp, and mebbe your dad what you speaks of pays us well if we returns you to him safe and sound. I opines he runs a pretty big ranch.”
“You bet,” said the boy quickly. “He’s got one of the biggest down that way. He has jest heaps of cattle and keeps lots of cowpunchers.”
“That being the case,” chuckled the man who hadgrasped the boy’s shoulder, “he certain pays liberal when he gits his children back. Now you two come along with us.”
He marched them along, one on either side, while his companion set out to catch the grazing horses and bring them.
Felicia slipped from the man’s hand and again sought Abe’s side, pressing close to him. In his ear she whispered:
“I am afraid we’re in awful trouble now, Abe. You remember the bad men we saw in the valley before my horse ran. Perhaps these are two of them.”
“Better be ketched by bad men than starve,” he returned, with an effort to reassure her. “I have seen heaps of bad men before this, and I am still alive.”
One of the horses was easily captured, but, to the surprise of the man, the other one charged viciously at him. When he sought to get at its head, the creature wheeled with a squeal and kicked wildly.
The man swore.
“What ails ye, drat yer?” he growled.
Then he released the docile animal and turned his attention to the other.
To his astonishment, the creature was fierce as a raging lion. It charged on him repeatedly, and he escaped only by the utmost nimbleness. It squealed, and whirled, and kicked in all directions. Apparently it fancied a thousand men were trying to capture it, and its wild gyrations were exceedingly surprising, to say the least.
After a little, the man ran away when he found the opportunity and stood at a distance, with his hands on his hips, watching the cavorting creature.
“The dinged hoss is sure crazy!” he declared. “Why, its a-trying to chew itself up, or kick itself to pieces. Never see but one critter act that way before.”
“It’s locoed,” said Abe to the man with him.
Immediately this man called to his companion, saying:
“Let the beast alone. The kid says it’s locoed, and ef that’s so, I reckon it’s no good to anybody.”
“Never see no locoed horse feed nateral like this one was,” returned the other. “I opines the critter is just ugly, that’s all.”
But, suddenly uttering snorts and squeals, the horse went dashing off into the distance, as if pursued by some frightful thing. Nor did it stop until it had disappeared far, far away.