"How are you going to do it?"
"In the first place, by giving you a good beating."
"Humph!" said Archie, contemptuously, looking at Arthur from head to foot, as if he were taking his exact measure. "It requires a boy with considerable 'get up' about him to do that."
"None of your impudence, you little Yankee," exclaimed Arthur, angrily. "I'm going to take some of it out of you before you are two minutes older."
When the traitor selected Archie as the one upon whom he could wreak his vengeance without danger to himself, he had made a great mistake. Archie was smaller than most boys of his age, but, after all, he was an antagonist not to be despised. He was courageous, active, and as wiry as an eel; and his body, hardened by all sorts of violent exercise, was as tough as hickory. He trembled a little when he looked over into the gorge, and thought of the possible consequences of an encounter on that cliff, but he was not the one to save himself by taking to his heels, nor did it come natural to him tostand still and take a whipping as long as he possessed the strength to defend himself. A single glance was enough to convince him that the traitor was in earnest, and Archie watched the opportunity to begin the struggle himself.
"Yes, sir," continued Arthur, "I've got you now just where I want you. I am going to settle this little difference between us, and then I shall take you back to Pierre. If you have any apologies to make, I am willing to listen to them."
The effect of these words not a little astonished the traitor. He had been sure that Archie would be terribly frightened, and that he would either seek safety in flight, or beg hard for mercy; consequently, he was not prepared for what really happened. Scarcely had Arthur ceased speaking, when the place where Archie was standing became suddenly vacant, and, before the traitor could move a finger, his gun was torn from his grasp and pitched over the cliff into the gorge. As the weapon fell whirling through the air, both barrels were discharged, and the reports awoke a thousandechoes, which reverberated among the mountains like peals of thunder.
"Now we are on equal terms," exclaimed Archie, as he clasped the traitor around the body and attempted to throw him to the ground. "You remember that you struck Johnny last night, when he was bound, hand and foot, and couldn't defend himself, don't you?"
"Yes; and now I am going to serve you worse than that," replied Arthur, who, although surprised and taken at great disadvantage by the suddenness of the attack, struggled furiously, and to such good purpose that he very soon broke Archie's hold; "I am going to fling you over the cliff after that gun."
The contest that followed was carried on on the very edge of the precipice, and was long and desperate. Archie, bruised and battered in a hundred places, and weary with a night's travel, was scarcely a match for the fresh and vigorous Arthur, who, in his blind rage, seemed determined to fulfill his threat of throwing him over the cliff after the gun. Fortune favored first one and then the other; but Archie's indomitable courage and long wind carried theday, and he finally succeeded in bearing his antagonist to the ground and holding him there.
"You are not going to throw me over, are you?" gasped Arthur, who was humble enough, now that he had been worsted.
"Do you take me for a savage?" panted Archie, in reply. "I simply wanted to save myself from a whipping that I did not deserve, and I've done it. Now you must go to the settlement with me, to"—
"Here you are!" exclaimed a familiar voice. "Let us see if you will escape me again."
Archie looked up, and saw Antoine Mercedes advancing upon him.
Archie had been so fully occupied with the traitor that he had not thought of his other enemies, and for a moment he lay upon the ground beside his antagonist, gazing at Antoine in speechless amazement. Resistance, of course, was not to be thought of, and it also seemed useless to make any attempts at escape; for he had been so nearly exhausted by his struggle with Arthur, that he scarcely possessed the power to rise from the ground. "I am caught easy enough," thought he, "and I might as well give up first as last."
"I see before me twenty thousand dollars," said Antoine, hastily coiling up his lasso as he approached.
These words acted like a spur upon Archie's flagging spirits. He no longer thought of surrender: on the contrary, almost before he knewit, he found himself on his feet and going down the mountain like the wind.
"Carrajo!" yelled the Ranchero, swinging his lasso around his head.
Archie was afraid of that lasso, for he knew that he was in danger as long as he was within reach of it; but fortunately he had been too quick for Antoine. He heard the lariat whistle through the air behind him, and snap like a whip close to his ear, and then he knew that his enemy had missed his mark.
"Santa Maria!" shouted the robber. "Stop, you young vagabond, or I'll shoot you."
The fugitive was not frightened by this threat. He was not afraid of being shot, nor did he believe that he could be overtaken in a fair race; for, now that he got started, he found that he had wind enough left for a long run. He had lived among the Rancheros long enough to know that they were very poor marksmen, and that they could not boast of their swiftness of foot; and, having escaped the lasso, his spirits rose again, and hope lent him wings. He heard Antoine crushing through the bushes in pursuit, but the sound grew fainter andfainter as he sped on his way. He jumped over rocks and logs, and cleared ravines that at almost any other time would have effectually checked his progress, and when he reached the thick woods at the base of the mountains, the Ranchero was out of sight and hearing.
Archie was well aware of the fact that he had now reached the most dangerous part of his route homeward. The chief had ordered the band to "scatter out" when they reached the end of the pass, and he knew that every road that led toward the settlement was closely watched. He knew, also, that his only chance for escape was to avoid these roads and keep in the thickest part of the woods. He sat down behind some bushes to rest for a few moments, and then started on again, sometimes creeping on his hands and knees, making use of every log and rock to cover his retreat, and stopping frequently to examine the woods in front of him, and to listen for sounds of pursuit. He had accomplished about a mile in this way, when he found himself in one of the numerous bridle-paths that ran through the mountains in every direction, and, what wasworse, he saw the scowling visage of Pierre Costello arise from behind a log not ten paces from him. With the same glance he saw something else; and that was a crouching figure in buckskin, which was creeping stealthily toward the robber.
"Here's one caught," said Pierre, stepping into the path and walking toward Archie. "None of your tricks, now; you can't escape."
"I don't intend to try," replied Archie, with a boldness that astonished the robber. "Your game is up, Mr. Pierre, and I advice you to surrender quietly, if you don't want to get hurt!"
"What!" exclaimed the Ranchero. "Surrender! If you know what you are about, you will not offer any resistance. I am a desperate man."
The robber spoke these words boldly enough, but he evidently did not like the looks of things. He gazed earnestly at Archie, as if trying to determine what it was that had encouraged him to show so bold a front, and seeing that he held one hand behind him, Pierre came to the conclusion that he must,by some means, have secured possession of a revolver.
"Drop that weapon, and hold your arms above your head," said the robber.
Archie did not move. While he appeared to be looking steadily at the chief, he was really watching the movements of the figure in buckskin, which had all this while been working its way quickly, but noiselessly, through the bushes, and had now approached within a few feet of the Ranchero.
"Did you hear what I said?" demanded the latter, placing his hand on one of his revolvers. "You are my prisoner."
"Well, then, why don't you come and take me?" asked Archie.
At this moment a slight rustling in the leaves caught the quick ear of the robber, who turned suddenly, uttered a cry of alarm, and fled down the path, closely followed by something that to Archie looked like a gray streak, so swiftly did it move. But it was not a gray streak—it was Dick Lewis, who, after a few of his long strides, collared the Ranchero with one hand and threw him to the ground, andwith the other seized the revolver he was trying to draw, and wrested it from his grasp. Pierre struggled desperately, but to no purpose, for the trapper handled him as easily as though he had been a child.
"Now, then, you tarnal Greaser," exclaimed Dick, "your jig's danced, an' you must settle with the fiddler. If I only had you out on the prairie, I'd larn you a few things I reckon you never heern tell on. Come here, you keerless feller, an' tell me if you 'member what I said to you yesterday! Whar's Frank?"
Before Archie had time to reply, an incident happened, which, had the trapper been a less experienced man than he was, would have turned his triumph into defeat very suddenly. He had more than one enemy to contend with, and the first intimation he had of the fact, was a sound that Archie had heard so often since his residence in California that it had become familiar to him—the whistling noise made by a lariat in its passage through the air. Before Archie could look around to discover whence this new danger came, he saw the trapper stretched at full length on the ground. Foran instant his heart stood still; but it was only for an instant, for Dick was on his feet again immediately, and Archie drew a long breath of relief when he saw the lasso, which he feared had settled around his friend's neck, glide harmlessly over his shoulder. The trapper, from force of long habit, was always on the watch for danger, and when he heard that whistling sound in the air, he did not stop to look for his enemy, but dropped like a flash to avoid the lasso; and when he arose to his feet his long rifle was leveled at a thicket of bushes in front of him.
"Show yourself, Greaser!" cried Dick.
The concealed enemy obeyed without an instant's hesitation, and when he stepped into the path, Archie saw that it was Antoine Mercedes.
"Thar's nothin' like knowin' the tricks of the varmints," said Dick, coolly, as he handed his rifle to Archie, and proceeded to disarm Antoine. "If I had been a greenhorn, I should have been well-nigh choked to death by this time; but a man who has seed prairy life, soon larns that his ears was made for useas well as his eyes. Now, little un, whar's the rest of them fellers?"
While the trapper was engaged in confining his prisoners' arms with their own lassos, Archie gave him a rapid account of all that had happened during his captivity, dwelling with a good deal of emphasis on the treachery of Arthur Vane. Dick opened his eyes in astonishment, and, when Archie had finished his story, declared that they would be serving Arthur right if they were to leave him among the robbers.
"Why, he doesn't want to get away from them," said Archie. "He is with them now, hunting for us. He and I had a fight not half an hour ago, and, if Antoine had only stayed away a few minutes longer, Arthur would have been a prisoner too."
At this moment, a party of Rancheros galloped up, led by Uncle James and Mr. Harris, and accompanied by the dogs, which the boys—who had intended to devote the most of their time to stalking the elks, which were abundant in the mountains—had left at home. Marmion and Carlo made every demonstration of joy atseeing Archie once more, and Mr. Winters greeted him as though he had not met him for years.
Without any unnecessary delay, a trusty herdsman was dismounted, and sent back to the ranch with the prisoners, and Archie mounted his horse.
"You had better go home," said Mr. Winters, looking at his nephew's rags and bruises.
"Oh no, uncle," said Archie, quickly. "I promised Frank and Johnny that, if I succeeded in getting away, I wouldn't sleep until they were safe among friends. I want to go with you."
Uncle James did not urge the matter, and Dick, although he shook his head at Archie, and called him a "keerless feller," was proud of his pluck.
The trapper, who was the acknowledged leader of the party, set out at a rapid trot toward the pass, but had not gone far, when he stopped, and turned his head on one side to listen. "Spread out, fellers," said he, waving his hand toward the bushes on each side of him. "Thar's something comin'."
The horsemen separated, and took up their positions on each side of the path. They could hear nothing but the chirping of the birds, and the sighing of the wind through the branches above their heads; but they had not been long in their concealments before they found that Dick had not been deceived. The clatter of a horse's hoofs on the hard path, faint and far off at first, but growing louder as the animal approached, came to their ears, and presently Roderick appeared in sight. The first thing Archie noticed was, that he wore neither saddle nor bridle; the second, that he carried Frank and Johnny on his back. One of Frank's hands was twisted in the horse's mane, and his body was tightly clasped in the arms of Johnny, who sat behind him. Archie had never seen the mustang run so swiftly before, and he made up his mind that, if any of the Rancheros were pursuing him, they might as well give up the chase. He also thought that Frank and Johnny would enjoy a long ride before they got a chance to put their feet on the ground again; for Roderick was plainly stampeded. It was fortunate that Dick had sentthem into the bushes; for, had the party been in the path then, some of them would have been run down, and, perhaps, trampled to death.
"Out of the way there, Greaser!" shouted Frank, when he discovered the trapper standing in the path.
Dick was not a Greaser; but he thought it best to get out of the way; and Frank would have gone by him, had not Carlo and Marmion recognized their masters, and set up a howl of welcome.
"Whoa!" shouted Johnny and Frank, in concert, and Roderick stopped so suddenly that both his riders were thrown forward on his neck.
"Come here, you boy that fit that ar' Greaser, an' tell me all about it, to onct," exclaimed Dick. "Be they follerin' you?"
"Not that we know of. We haven't seen any of them since daylight. Lend me your lasso, Carlos, and we'll go back and hunt up Archie."
But Archie was already found, and when he rode out of the bushes, Frank was relieved ofa great deal of anxiety. He had not seen his cousin since he left the glade, and he feared that he had been re-captured; or, what was worse, had slipped off the ledge into the gorge.
A consultation was now held, and, after Uncle James and Mr. Harris had listened to the boys' story, they decided that it would be a waste of time to search for Arthur Vane. The latter's conduct had induced the belief that he was a friend of the robbers, and could go and come when he pleased. No doubt, when he got tired of life in the mountains, he would return home of his own free will. The party would keep on to the glade, however, and recover Sleepy Sam, and the boys' weapons. When this had been decided upon, Dick's horse, which he had hidden in the bushes, was brought out for Johnny, a lasso was twisted around Roderick's lower jaw, to serve as a bridle, and then the trapper shouldered his long rifle, and gave another exhibition of his "travelin' qualities." He kept the horses in a steady gallop, sometimes "letting out" a little on getting far in advance of them, and, when hestopped at the entrance to the pass, he seemed as fresh as ever.
The boys had expressed the hope that they would surprise some of the robbers in the glade, but were disappointed. They found their saddles, bridles, blankets, and weapons, however, and Archie recovered his horse, which was standing contentedly beside the spring, half asleep, as usual. Every thing was gathered up, including a few articles the robbers had left behind, and, as they rode toward the settlement, the boys told each other that the next time they went hunting, after Pierre's band had all been captured, they would camp in the glade.
Archie was confined to the house for a day or two after that; but, if his body was stiff and bruised, his tongue was all right, and it was a long time before he got through relating the incidents of his fight with the traitor.
Frank and Johnny had met with no adventures, not having seen any of the band after they left the glade. They crossed the ledge without accident—although they confessed that they would think twice before trying it again—and, when they reached the end of the pass,they concealed themselves in a hollow log until morning. When they were about to continue their flight, they discovered the mustang, which, unwilling to be left alone in the glade, had crossed the ledge, and was on his way home. Frank easily caught him; but, knowing his favorite's disposition as well as he did, hesitated about requiring him to carry double; however, he finally decided that Roderick was large enough and strong enough to carry them both, and that he must do it, or take the consequences. Frank thereupon mounted the animal, Johnny climbed up behind him, and Roderick, after a few angry kicks, consented to the arrangement. Believing the boldest course to be the safest, they put the horse to the top of his speed, trusting to his momentum to overcome any thing that might endeavor to obstruct the path.
While Archie was confined to the house, Dick and old Bob were busy, and their efforts were rewarded by the capture of three more of the band, who were sent to San Diego with the others. Only one was left now, and that was Joaquin, who had thus far successfully eludedpursuit. The traitor was also missing; and, although Mr. Vane kept his herdsmen in the mountains continually, nothing had been seen of him. Arthur was paying the penalty of his treachery, and was being punished in a way he had not thought of. After his unsuccessful attempt to capture Archie Winters, he went down the mountain to the place where he had left his horse, and there he found Joaquin, who had narrowly escaped a ball from the rifle of old Bob Kelly. He was in ill-humor about something, but his face brightened when he discovered Arthur.
"We must be off at once," said he. "The mountains are full of men."
"I believe I'll go home," replied Arthur. "I am going to ask my father to give me money enough to take me back to Kentucky; for, of course, I can't live here after what I have done. Before I go, however, I want to tell you, that you and your friends are a set of blockheads. If I had known that you would be so stupid as to allow those fellows to escape, I shouldn't have had any thing to do with you. Good-by, Joaquin."
"Not quite so fast, my lad," said the Ranchero, seizing Arthur's horse by the bridle. "You are worth as much to us as the others."
"What do you mean?" exclaimed Arthur.
"I mean that you are a prisoner, and that you must stay here with us. I hope you understand that?"
Arthur was thunderstruck. "Why, Joaquin," said he, "Pierre promised me faithfully that I should be treated as a visitor, and that no ransom should be demanded for me."
"And did you put any faith in that promise? When your father gives us twenty thousand dollars, you can go, and not before."
Arthur cried, begged, and threatened in vain. Joaquin was firm, and the traitor was obliged to accompany him to the mountains. That night he wrote to his father, informing him of his situation, and Joaquin, after tying his prisoner to a tree, and gagging him, to prevent him from shouting for assistance, rode to the settlement, and left the note on Mr. Vane's door-step.
During the three weeks following, Arthur led a most miserable life. He had nothing toeat but dried meat, and but little of that. His captor treated him very harshly, tying him to a tree every night, to prevent his escape, and moving him about in the day-time, from place to place, to avoid capture. It soon became known in the settlement, that Arthur was held as a prisoner, and the search was conducted with redoubled energy. Joaquin was constantly on the alert, but he was caught at last; for, one day, just as he and Arthur were about to sit down to their dinner of dried meat, Frank, Archie, and Johnny suddenly appeared in sight, accompanied by the two trappers. Archie had repeatedly declared that he owed the traitor a debt, which he intended to settle the very first time he met him; but when he saw what a wretched condition Arthur was in, he relented, and pitied him from the bottom of his heart.
Joaquin was sent to San Diego to be dealt with according to law, and Arthur went home. He did not remain there long; but, as soon as he was able to travel, started for Kentucky, and every one was glad that he had gone.
Frank and Archie could tell stories now that were worth listening to. They had seen excitingtimes since their arrival in California, had been the heroes of some thrilling adventures, and they never got weary of talking over the incidents that transpired during their captivityAmong the Rancheros.
Neither as a writer does he stand apart from the great currents of life and select some exceptional phase or odd combination of circumstances. He stands on the common level and appeals to the universal heart, and all that he suggests or achieves is on the plane and in the line of march of the great body of humanity.
The Jack Hazard series of stories, published in the lateOur Young Folks, and continued in the first volume ofSt. Nicholas, under the title of "Fast Friends," is no doubt destined to hold a high place in this class of literature. The delight of the boys in them (and of their seniors, too) is well founded. They go to the right spot every time. Trowbridge knows the heart of a boy like a book, and the heart of a man, too, and he has laid them both open in these books in a most successful manner. Apart from the qualities that render the series so attractive to all young readers, they have great value on account of their portraitures of American country life and character. The drawing is wonderfully accurate, and as spirited as it is true. The constable, Sellick, is an original character, and as minor figures where will we find anything better than Miss Wansey, and Mr. P. Pipkin, Esq. The picture of Mr. Dink's school, too, is capital, and where else in fiction is there a better nick-name than that the boys gave to poor little Stephen Treadwell, "Step Hen," as he himself pronounced his name in an unfortunate moment when he saw it in print for the first time in his lesson in school.
On the whole, these books are very satisfactory, and afford the critical reader the rare pleasure of the works that are just adequate, that easily fulfill themselves and accomplish all they set out to do.—Scribner's Monthly.
6 vols. BY J.T. TROWBRIDGE $7.25Jack Hazard and His Fortunes.Doing His Best.The Young Surveyor.A Chance for Himself.Past Friends.Lawrence's Adventures.
This author wrote his "Camping Out Series" at the very height of his mental and physical powers.
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All books in this series are 12mo. with eight full page illustrations. Cloth, extra, 75 cents.
Camping Out. As Recorded by "Kit."
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Left on Labrador; or, The Cruise of the Schooner Yacht "Curlew." As Recorded by "Wash."
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Off to the Geysers; or The Young Yachters in Iceland. As Recorded by "Wade."
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Lynx Hunting: From Notes by the Author of "Camping Out."
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Fox Hunting. As Recorded by "Raed."
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On the Amazon; or, the Cruise of the "Rambler." As Recorded by "Wash."
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