CHAPTER X—THREE IN A TRAP.CHAPTER X.THREE IN A TRAP.
CHAPTER X.
THREE IN A TRAP.
The day was declining when Frank, Dick, and Brad came down into El Diablo Valley. It was, indeed, a dark, wild place, and for some time it seemed almost impossible of access. No plain trail led into it. On an elevation in the valley they had seen a ruined pile that bore a strong resemblance to a crumbling castle. The very appearance of these buildings belied the tale that Joaquin Murietta had built them there. Had they been so recently constructed their ruined condition was unaccountable. It seemed certain that at least a hundred years had passed since their erection. About the valley and the castle appeared hanging an air of mystery and romance.
That any one should choose such a remote and desolate spot to rear those buildings was beyond comprehension to the three young Americans who now beheld the ruins for the first time. Somehow those crumbling stones reminded them of the march of Cortez and his conquering treasure hunters. What Spaniard of that day, left behind in Mexico and supposed to be dead, had enriched himself with the treasures of the Aztecs and had escaped northward, only to find himself imprisoned in the new land, and to finally use a part of his treasures to erect this castle?
During the middle hours of the day alone did the southern sunshine fall soft and golden in El Diablo Valley. Therefore, they descended into the shadows and approached the castle, which seemed to lie silent and deserted in the midst of the valley.
“It’s a whole lot strange we never heard of thisplace before,” observed Buckhart. “Of course, others have seen it.”
There was a cloud on Dick’s face.
“Do you think, Frank,” he questioned, “that there is any hope of finding Felicia here? Since leaving the mission we have seen nothing to indicate that we were still on the right trail.”
“It’s a good deal like hunting for a needle in a hay-stack,” confessed Merry.
“Maybe those galoots who have her doubled back on us,” suggested Brad. “Maybe they turned on us there at the mission.”
“It’s not impossible,” was Merry’s regretful admission. “However, we are here, and we will find what there is to find.”
There were no echoes in the valley. It seemed a place of silence and gloom. As they approached the ruins they surveyed them with increasing wonder. There were old turrets and towers, crumbling and cracked, as if shaken by many earthquakes. The black windows glared at them like grim eyes.
“I will bet my boots that there is no one around this yere ranch,” muttered Buckhart. “Perhaps that old priest fooled us a whole lot.”
Merry shook his head.
“I am sure not,” he said.
They mounted the rise on which the castle was built and passed through a huge gate and dark passage, coming into a courtyard, with the crumbling ruins all around them. Here they paused. Suddenly at one of the narrow, upper windows of the old turret a face appeared. Some one was there looking out at them. Frank’s keen eyes were the first to discover it. Then to their ears came the cry of a voice electrifying them. The face at the window pressed nearer, and, together with the voice, it was recognized.
Dick gave a shout of joy.
“Felicia!” he exclaimed. “There she is, Frank. Can you see her in that window up there? Felicia! Felicia!”
But even as he called to her thus she suddenly vanished. As they stared at the window, another face showed for a moment and another pair of eyes looked down at them.
Then these also disappeared.
“Waugh!” exploded Brad Buckhart. “Here’s where we get into action.”
“She’s there,” declared Frank. “She’s there—a captive!”
“It’s sure to be a red-hot scrimmage,” said Buckhart, looking at his revolver. “Take care that your guns are ready for action.”
They leaped from their horses and swiftly approached the ruins, leaving the animals to wander where they might in the valley, well knowing they would not leave it.
Up the stone steps they bounded, coming to the deepset door, which by its own weight or by the working of time had fallen from its hinges. Nothing barred them there, and they entered. As they dashed in, there was a sudden whirring sound, and they felt themselves struck and beaten upon as by phantom hands. This was startling enough, but Frank immediately comprehended that they were bats and the creatures were fluttering wildly about them. From one dark room to another they wandered, seeking the stairs that should lead them up into the turret.
“We need a light,” said Merry.
“That certain is correct, pardner,” agreed Buckhart. “We are a heap likely to break our necks here in the dark.”
“But we have no light,” panted Dick, “and no time to secure a torch. If we waste time for that we may lose her.”
“Where are those pesky stairs?” growled the Texan.
Their search led them into a huge echoing room that seemed windowless. Frank was exasperated by the aimlessness of their search. Had they not seen Felicia’s face at the window and heard her voice, the silence and desolation of the place must have convinced them that it was in truth deserted. But now, of a sudden, there was a sound behind them. It was a creak on the rusty stairs. It was followed by a heavy thud and absolute silence.
“What was that?” asked Dick.
“It sounded to me,” muttered Merry, “like the closing of a massive door.”
A moment later he struck a match, and by its light they looked around. Holding it above his head, it served to illumine the chamber dimly.
“Wherever did we get into this hole?” asked Brad. “I fail to see any door.”
The repeated lighting of matches seemed to show them only four bare walls. At last Frank found the door, but he discovered it was closed. More than that, he discovered that it was immovable.
“Boys,” he said grimly, as the match in his fingers fluttered out and fell into a little glowing, coal at his feet, “we are trapped. It’s plain now that we did a foolish thing in rushing in here without a light. That glimpse of Felicia lured us into the snare, and it will be no easy thing to escape.”
“Let me get at that door!” growled Buckhart.
He flung himself against it with all his strength, but it stood immovable. They joined in using their united strength upon it, but still it did not stir.
“Well, this certain is a right bad scrape,” admitted the Texan. “I don’t mind any a good hot fight with the odds on the other side, but I admit this staggers me.”
“What are we to do, Frank?” whispered Dick.
“Easier asked than answered,” confessed Merry. “It’s up to us to find some means of escape, but how we can do so I am not ready to say.”
“Pards,” said the Texan, “it seems to me that we are going to get a-plenty hungry before we leave this corral. We are some likely to starve here. The joke is on us.”
“Hush!” cautioned Merry. “Listen!”
As they stood still in the dense darkness of that chamber they heard a muffled voice speaking in English. It seemed to be calling to them derisively.
“You’re very courageous, Frank Merriwell,” mocked the voice; “but see what your courage has brought you to. Here you are trapped, and here you will die!”
“Hello!” muttered Merry. “So my friend, Felipe Dulzura, is near at hand!”
The situation was one to appall the stoutest heart, but Frank Merriwell was not the one to give up as long as there was the slightest gleam of hope. Indeed, in that darkness there seemed no gleam. It is not wonderful that even stout-hearted Brad Buckhart began to feel that “the jig was up.”
In most times of danger, perplexity, or peril, Dick relied solely on himself and his own resources; now, however, having Frank at hand, he turned to him.
“Is there any chance for us to escape?”
“Boys,” said Merry, “we must not think of giving up until we have made every effort in our power. The first thing to be done is to sound the walls. You can help me in this. Go around the walls, rapping on them and listening. See if you can find a hollow place. This is not the donjon, and it may have been originally intended for something different from a prison room.”
Directed by him, they set about their task, sounding the walls. Hopeless enough it seemed as they went knocking, knocking through the darkness. When the room had been circled once and no discovery made,Buckhart seemed quite ready to give up the effort in that direction. Frank was not satisfied, but continued feeling his way along the walls, rapping and listening as he went. Finally he remained a long time in one place, which aroused the curiosity of his boy comrades.
“Have you discovered anything?” asked Dick.
Before replying Merry struck a match.
“Here, boys,” he said, “you will see there is a crack in the wall. That may be the cause of the hollow sound I fancied it gave. But, look!” he added, holding the match high above his head, “see how the crack widens as it rises toward the ceiling. By Jove, boys! it’s almost wide enough up there for a cat to get through.”
Then the match burned too short to be held longer, and he dropped it. Several moments he stood in silence, paying no heed to the words of Dick or Brad. His mind was busy. Finally he said:
“Get up here, boys, both of you. Face this wall and stand close together. I want to climb on your shoulders. I am going to examine that crack. It may be our only hope of salvation.”
They followed instructions, and Merry mounted to their shoulders, on which he stood. In this manner he was high enough to reach some distance into the crack in the wall. He found nothing but crumbling bits of cement and stone, which was a disappointment to him.
“Keep your heads down,” he said. “I am going to see if I can loosen some of this outer coat of cement here. It may rattle down about your ears.”
He pulled away at the cement, cleaving it off easily and exposing the fact that the wall was somewhat shabbily built above a distance of eight feet from the floor. An earthquake or convulsion of nature, or whatever had caused the crack in the wall, had seriously affected it, and it seemed very shaky and unstable indeed.
Several times he shifted about on the boys’ shoulders to give them rest, as his heavy boots were ratherpainful after remaining in one position a few moments. They were eager to know what progress he was making.
“I can’t tell what it amounts to, boys,” he declared. “This crack may lead nowhere, even if I can make an opening large enough to enter.”
At length he was compelled to descend in order to give them a chance to rest. Three times he mounted on their shoulders and worked at the cement and stones until the skin of his fingers was torn and his hands bleeding. He was making progress, nevertheless, and it seemed more and more apparent that, if given time enough, an opening might be made there at that height in the wall. In his final efforts he loosened a mass of the stuff, that suddenly gave way and went rattling and rumbling down into the wall somewhere. To his intense satisfaction, this left a hole large enough for a human being to creep into.
“Brace hard, boys,” he whispered. “I am going to make a venture here. I am going to crawl into this place.”
“Be careful, Frank!” palpitated Dick. “What if you get in there and the old wall crumbles on you! You will be buried alive! You will be smothered, and killed!”
“Better that than starvation in this wretched hole,” he half laughed. “We will have to take chances if we ever escape at all. Steady now.”
They stiffened their bodies, and he gave a little spring, diving into the opening as far as he could and slowly wiggling and dragging himself forward. In this manner he gradually crept into it, although it was no simple matter. There was barely room enough for him to accomplish this feat, and when it was done he lay still a few moments to rest. As he lay thus he heard some of the stones and cement rattling and falling beneath him, and felt the whole wall seem to settle.His heart leaped into his throat, for it seemed, indeed, that he was about to be smothered and crushed to death in that place. Still he did not retreat. Instead of that, he squirmed and crawled forward as fast as possible. Suddenly a mass of the wall came down upon his back and shoulders, and he was pinned fast.
Trying to squirm forward still farther, he found himself held as if in the jaws of a vise, and never in his adventurous career had his position seemed more desperate and helpless. Dust filled his eyes and nostrils, and he seemed smothered.
Summoning all his wonderful strength, Merry made a mighty effort. Suddenly, as he did so, the wall beneath him seemed to give way, and downward he fell, amid showers of stones and cement, which rained upon him. He had fallen into some sort of open space, and, although somewhat dazed and stunned, he quickly crept forward to escape the falling mass of stuff. In this he was successful, and, although the air of the place seemed dense and stifling, he was practically uninjured.
As soon as possible, he sought to learn what kind of a place he had dropped into so unexpectedly. There were yet a few matches left in his match safe, and one of these he lighted. Its light showed him a small, narrow passage, leading away he knew not where. Behind him there was a mass of fallen debris where the top of the passage had caved in. Even then still more was threatening to fall, and he quickly moved away.
“I have heard of secret passages in old castles and mansions,” Frank muttered, “and this must be one of them. Where will it lead me? It must take me somewhere, and this is better than remaining in the chamber where we were trapped.”
For a long time he felt his way cautiously onward along the passage. He came in time to its end. His hand could feel nothing but the bare stones, and itseemed that the passage terminated there. Once more he struck a match, the light of which revealed to him nothing of an encouraging nature.
“Well,” he said, “I seem to be in a trap still. It can’t be possible this was simply a blind passage. Why was it constructed? There must be some way of getting out of it.”
Again at the end of the passage he fell to sounding the wall and listening. His hands roamed over it, feeling every protrusion or irregularity. Finally he touched something that was loose. Immediately he pressed it with considerable vigor, upon which there was a faint muffled click, and a heavy door that had been skillfully covered by cement swung slowly against his hands.
Frank’s wonderful command of his nerves kept him from uttering an exclamation of satisfaction. He quickly seized the edge of the door and pulled it wide open. Fresh air rushed in upon him, and he filled his lungs with a sensation of satisfaction and relief.
He now thought of returning and seeking to assist Dick and Brad in following him, but after a few moments he decided to investigate still further. Soon he found himself on a high terrace, which opened into an inclosed courtyard of the ruins. As he leaned there, looking down, the ring of ironshod hoofs came through the arched gate, reaching his ears. A moment later two horsemen rode into the courtyard, leading behind them three animals. The clank and clang of the horses’ feet upon the flagstones echoed in the inclosure. Merry drew back, watching and listening.
“Three fine beasts,” said a voice in Spanish. “And they are ours, comrade. The chief said we were to have them if we captured them.”
“Why not?” sullenly returned the other man. “Are we to have nothing? Is the chief to get it all?”
“Hush, Jimenez!” hastily warned the first speaker. “Better not let him hear you utter such words.”
“At least one can think, Monte,” retorted Jimenez. “We take all the risks, and what do we get? Not even when we faced that young devil Americano at the mission did the chief put himself in peril. He urged us on, but he took good care of his precious self, I noticed.”
“If you talk more in this manner, Jimenez,” exclaimed Monte, “with you I will have nothing whatever to do!”
“Bah! You are a coward,” snarled the other. “Now, be not hasty in your movements, for I, too, am armed.”
“Fly at it!” whispered Frank, in satisfaction. “Go at each other, and do your prettiest. Cut each other’s throats, and I will applaud you, you rascals!”
But the two scoundrels did not engage in an encounter. After growling a little at each other, they proceeded with the horses to a part of the courtyard where the stables seemed to be, and there disappeared. Merry did not have to watch long for their return. They again crossed the open space below and disappeared; but, listening where he stood, he heard their voices, and they seemed ascending stairs not far away.
His curiosity now fully aroused, with a pistol in his hand, Frank stole onward as swiftly as possible in an attempt to keep track of them. He left the terrace and came to the stairs by which they ascended. Even as he stole like a panther up those stairs, he caught the hum of voices and the flash of a light.
Thus it was that the daring young man at last reached a dark nook, from which sheltered spot he could peer through an open door into a lighted room where several men were gathered. Beyond doubt these were the members of Black Joaquin’s band, several of whom had set upon him at San Monica Mission.