Itwas one of Dick’s sayings that bear-hunting was a “business by itself”—as much so as book-keeping or steamboating; and Frank and Archie had been in California long enough to learn that the trapper told the truth in this, as in other matters. It was a favorite pastime with the settlers in that section of the country, and the cousins had seen as many as thirty men take part in a single hunt. They were generally divided into two parties: some went in the drive—that is, they followed the hounds, and if the bear was brought to bay by them, they signaled to their companions with their hunting horns. The others were scattered about among the mountains, watching the “runaways,” and holding themselves in readiness to shoot the bear if he attempted to pass by them.This was the part our four boys always took in a bear-hunt, and they had engaged in so many during the last few weeks, that they began to consider themselves experts in the business. They had never killed a grizzly, but they could boast of having had an exciting fight with one. How it would have ended it is hard to tell. The boys were getting the worst of it (by that we mean that the bear was charging upon them, and they were running for dear life toward the place where they had left their horses), when Mr. Harris, who happened to be near at hand, came up and put an end to the fight by shooting the bear through the head. The boys afterward had reason to wish that he had stayed away a few minutes longer; for all the hunters in the settlement laughed at them, and Mr. Harris created a great deal of amusement by showing how Johnny looked when he was running through the bushes, with his coat-tails sticking straight out behind him. They defended themselves against the charge of cowardice with a good deal of spirit, and did not, by any means, acknowledge themselves whipped. They affirmed that it was their intention todraw the bear into open ground, and continue the fight on horseback; but the old hunters refused to believe this story, and the boys solemnly avowed that, if they ever got a fair chance, they would show them that they could kill a bear as well as any body. Now they had an opportunity to try their skill on Old Davy, and this was the time to make good their boasts. The result of this day’s work would be a fair test of their abilities as bear-hunters. There were no dogs to worry the grizzly, and no experienced men, with quick eyes and steady hands, to ride up and rescue them if they came to close quarters with their enemy. They had no one to depend upon but themselves; and, if they killed the bear, the glory would be all their own.
“I am going to have one more shot at that fellow before I leave him,” said Archie, with as much apparent indifference as though he was speaking of shooting at a squirrel. “He’ll never rob any more cow-pens when I am done with him.”
The boys were all wonderfully brave and reckless now that they imagined themselvessafe from the claws of the grizzly: but when they reached the bottom of the ravine, and found that their situation there was not much better than it had been on the mountain-side, their courage all left them again, and they had nothing more to say about shooting Old Davy. They were really in more danger now than they had been before, for they had but one way to run. On two sides of them were precipitous cliffs, which could not be scaled on horseback; behind them was the grizzly; and in front an almost impenetrable wall of bushes shut them off from the prairie beyond. They took this all in at a glance, and, knowing that there was but one way of escape open to them, they urged their horses forward at increased speed, and dashed pell-mell into the bushes, where, a moment afterward, they found themselves brought to a dead halt. Their horses, snorting with terror, exerted themselves to the utmost, but without making any perceptible headway, and but a short distance behind them came the bear, lumbering along as easily as though the bushes, which effectually checked their progress, had been nothing more than so many straws in hisway. It was a critical moment, and more than one among the young hunters gave himself up for lost. Beyond a doubt it would have been the last bear-hunt for somebody, had it not been for the coolness and courage of Frank Nelson. Seeing that the grizzly was gaining rapidly, and that he would certainly overtake them before they could work their way out of the bushes, he very deliberately slung his rifle over his shoulder, and drew one of his revolvers. Reining in his plunging, frantic horse, he faced about in his saddle, and took a deliberate aim at the bear’s head.
“Shoot close, Frank,” said Johnny, whose horse seemed to be hopelessly entangled in the bushes. “If you miss, somebody is done for.”
With almost breathless anxiety his companions awaited the result of his shot; and when the smoke of the revolver had cleared away, and Old Davy was seen struggling on the ground, the shout that went up from four pairs of strong lungs was almost deafening.
“Hurrah for the champion rifle-shot!” yelled Dick. “He’s down!”
“But he’s up again!” exclaimed Frank, “Push ahead, fellows!”
During the delay occasioned by Frank’s lucky shot, short as it was, the boys gained considerable ground; and before the grizzly was fairly on his feet again, they had worked their way out of the bushes into the bed of a creek which ran through the ravine. As the water was but a few inches deep, it formed an excellent highway; and, with another shout, the boys gave rein to their horses, which set off at a rapid gallop, leaving Old Davy far in the rear. They were safe now, and their courage rose again.
“Isn’t there any way to get the better of that fellow?” asked Archie. “If we can induce him to follow us out on the prairie, I’ll ride home after Dick Lewis. He’ll fix him.”
“Oh, he will follow us,” replied Johnny: “you need not be at all uneasy about that. I guess you haven’t learned much about grizzlies yet.”
Archie thought of the adventures he had had with these animals when he and his friends were encamped at the Old Bear’s Hole, and told himself that he had learned a good deal aboutthem; perhaps quite as much as his friend Johnny, who had lived among them all his life.
“I declare, he’s coming now,” continued the latter, looking over his shoulder. “I don’t believe we have hurt him at all.”
The others were of the same opinion. Old Davy made headway astonishingly for an animal that had five bullets in him, and during the next ten minutes they did not gain on him more than a stone’s throw. But that did not cause them any uneasiness. They knew that the grizzly could not overtake them as long as the way was clear before them, and as they dashed along they discussed the best means of conquering their dreaded enemy. When they got him out on the prairie should they stop and fight him, or go home after the trapper? They knew that they would gain a good deal of honor, if they could exhibit the grizzly’s skin as a trophy of their prowess, but they were so much afraid of him that they did not want to permit him to come within shooting distance of them again, if they could avoid it. They did not have time, however, to come toany decision on these points, for they suddenly discovered something that drove all their plans for Old Davy’s destruction out of their minds, and turned their thoughts to a matter of much more importance—their own safety. As they swept around an abrupt bend in the creek, they found themselves brought to a standstill by a huge tree which had fallen across the ravine. Against the body of the tree was piled a mass of smaller logs and branches, which had probably lodged there during high water, the whole forming an obstruction at least seven feet in height. They could not go around it, because of the cliffs on each side; and they dared not turn back, for there was the grizzly close behind them. They were fairly cornered.
The boys became appalled when they saw the danger of their situation, and for a moment they sat in their saddles as motionless as if they had been turned into stone. Then a glance over their shoulders showed them that the grizzly still kept up the pursuit; and that once more aroused them.
“What shall we do?” asked Archie, turning his pale face toward his cousin, to whomhe always looked for advice and assistance in times of danger.
Frank’s answer was not given in words. When they first discovered the obstruction in their path, they had stopped their horses, and during the half a minute of inactivity that preceded Archie’s question, Frank had taken a survey of the situation, and determined upon his course. The others knew what it was when they saw him bend forward in his saddle, and gather his reins firmly in his hand.
“You can’t do it!” Dick almost gasped. “It is too high.”
Before the words were fairly uttered, Frank’s horse was flying down the ravine at the top of his speed. For a moment the gravel and water flew about in all directions, then there was a crushing among the branches which had lodged against the body of the tree, and Frank had disappeared from view. His horse had jumped the log; and if the others could be induced to follow, the young hunters were safe.
“I did it easily enough, didn’t I?” shouted Frank, waving his hat to his companions. “Come on, fellows. It’s your only chance.”
As soon as he could stop his horse he turned to wait for the others. Then for the first time he realized how high the obstruction was—what a tremendous jump his horse must have made to carry him safely over it—and he trembled when he saw his companions preparing to follow him. As he sat in his saddle, he could just look over the log and watch their movements. A very slight accident—a single instant’s hesitation on the part of one of their horses—might result in a terrible tragedy.
Johnny was the first to take the leap. In response to a light touch from his spurs, his horse arose in the air and sailed over the log like a bird. Two of them were safe, and their courage arose again wonderfully: but now misfortunes befell them. Archie’s horse made an awkward start, and striking his fore-feet against a branch of the tree, fell rather than jumped over the obstruction, dashing his rider with stunning violence to the ground. Dick’s horse came on gallantly enough, but stopped when he reached the log, laid back his ears, and stubbornly refused to move an inch in any direction. Johnny turned white with terror, andthe ramrod with which Frank was driving home a ball in his rifle, trembled like a leaf in his grasp. There was Archie lying stunned and bleeding where he had fallen, Dick on a balky horse, which only kicked viciously when his rider touched him with his spurs, and the bear close behind, and coming on as fiercely as ever.
Frank gazed in bewilderment and dismay at the scene before him, and his first impulse was to put spurs to his horse and ride away, that he might not see what would follow when the grizzly came up. But that feeling was short-lived. He knew that neither Archie nor Dick would have deserted him had he been in their situation, and if he could not save them, he would, at least, have the satisfaction of knowing that he had done what he could.
“Johnny,” he exclaimed, in a voice which to save his life he could scarcely raise above a whisper, “can you take Archie in front of you?”
“Hand him up here,” was Johnny’s reply. “I’ll take care of him.”
“Dick,” continued Frank, “jump down from that horse, and mount Archie’s.”
Dick was prompt to act upon the suggestion. He threw himself from his horse, which he sincerely hoped would stand where he was until Old Davy could get his claws upon him, tumbled over the log, and in a moment more was safe in Archie’s saddle. Frank, in the mean time, had raised his cousin from the ground, and placed him upon Johnny’s horse; and by the time the grizzly came in sight, the boys were ready to continue their flight.
“Ride for life, now, Johnny,” said Frank. “Remember that you have got a double load, and don’t spare the whip.”
“Don’t be uneasy,” was the answer. “I’ve a splendid horse, and I won’t be long”——
Another misfortune cut short Johnny’s words. If his horse was a splendid animal, he was also a most vicious one, and he did not like to carry double. No sooner did he feel Archie’s weight on his back, than he set off at a furious pace, and suddenly throwing down his head, sent both his heels high into the air. Johnny, being an excellent horseman, and always on the watch for such eccentricities, would have had no difficulty in retaining his seat, had not the saddlegirthparted with a loud snap, throwing him and Archie headlong to the ground.
“Did any body ever hear of such luck!” growled Johnny, who was on his feet almost as soon as he touched the ground. “Come here, Dick; you’ll have to take him now.”
He gave one parting glance at his horse, which was flying down the ravine, and then raised his insensible companion in his arms, and ran toward Dick, who galloped up to meet him. The former took the wounded hunter upon his horse and continued his flight, while Johnny picked up his gun, and drew a bee-line for the nearest tree.
While this was going on, Frank had finished loading his rifle, and dismounted from his horse, and was now standing in front of the log, awaiting the approach of the grizzly, and ready to carry out his self-imposed task of covering the retreat of the others. In one hand he held his bridle, and in the other his trusty weapon, which he raised to his shoulder now and then, as he caught sight of the grizzly through the branches of the tree. He knew that every thing depended upon the result ofthis shot, and he was resolved that he would not fire until a fair mark was presented. He tried to argue himself into the belief that Old Davy was a squirrel, and that he could easily put a ball into one of his eyes at a distance of fifty yards. He recalled to mind some of the excellent shots he had made during the last few days, and tried hard to keep up his courage by telling himself that it was seldom indeed that he missed his mark. Still he did miss sometimes, and what would be the result if he missed now? His life would not be worth a moment’s purchase. He would not have time to mount before the grizzly would be close upon him. But even if he did succeed in making his escape, how far could Dick’s horse carry his double load before he would be overtaken? Once more Frank raised his rifle, and just at that moment Old Davy’s head and shoulders appeared above the log, not more than ten feet distant. His mouth was open, showing a frightful array of teeth, his ears were laid back close to his head, his eyes seemed to shoot forth angry sparks of fire, and, altogether, his appearance was enough to shake the strongest nerves.But Frank’s were as firm as a rock. The trusty rifle was held as steadily as though it were a part of him it had served so long and faithfully; and just as the grizzly’s fore-feet touched the ground, a sharp report rang through the ravine, and for an instant the smoke concealed both hunter and bear from the view of Johnny, who, from his perch in a neighboring tree, had watched all that was going on before him with breathless anxiety. When the smoke cleared away he saw Frank standing erect and unharmed, and Old Davy lying motionless where he had fallen. Frank’s bullet had reached its mark.
Old Davy, the terror of the country, the destroyer of dogs, and winner of goodness knows how many desperate battles—Old Davy the invincible—had met his match at last in Frank Nelson, a boy of sixteen. The young hunter had long enjoyed an enviable reputation, dating as far back as his desperate fight with the moose, which had taken place during the previous winter, while he and Archie were sojourning at Uncle Joe’s cabin. Since that time he had been the hero of as many scrapes as a boy of his age could well get into. He had been lost on the prairie; stampeded with a herd of buffaloes; passed a night in the camp of a band of blood-thirsty outlaws, who stole his horse and threatened to tie him to a tree and leave him to the mercy of the wolves; hadthree desperate encounters with a highwayman, and been captured at last and held as a prisoner by him; and in all these trying situations he had shown that he possessed a wonderful degree of courage, and had always conducted himself in a way to draw forth the highest praise from his friends the trappers. But all his former exploits were as nothing compared with the feat he had just accomplished. He had a reputation now that any farmer in that country would have been proud to possess. He would be pointed out as the one who had killed a monster which had held his own against all the men and dogs that could be brought against him; and when he heard old bear-hunters recounting their adventures, and boasting of their achievements, he could hold his head as high as any of them.
That was what Frank thought half an hour after the fight was over; but, when he stood there looking at his prize and at his companions—at Archie, who sat on the ground beside the bear, with his aching head resting on his hands, and at Dick, one or both of whom had been saved by his lucky shot, he never reflected onthe glory he had won. He could not help thinking of what the consequences would have been if he, in his excitement, had missed the bear, or failed to disable him.
Never before had the boys engaged in so exciting a battle. It was far ahead of any of their former hunts. It had been ended so fortunately, too! Archie had a lame shoulder and a bruised nose, and for a few minutes had been utterly unconscious of what was going on around him; but he did not feel half so badly about it as Dick did over the trick his horse had played upon him.
“I’ll fix him for that,” said the boy, with a threatening shake of his head. “I’ll put him in one of father’s teams, and make him work for his living. I don’t owe him any thanks for coming out of this fight with a whole skin. After he has made a few trips between our rancho and San Diego, hauling heavy loads of provisions, he’ll wish he had behaved himself.”
“I’ll tell you what I am going to do with mine,” said Archie, with a glance of contempt at the nag which had been the cause of hismisfortune: “I’ll leave him out of doors to-night, and let the horse-thieves steal him.”
“I don’t see how you can be revenged on the horse by doing that,” said Frank. “I don’t suppose it makes much difference to him who he has for a master.”
“Who said I wanted to be revenged on the horse?” asked Archie. “I don’t; but I’ll take a terrible revenge on the robbers. Perhaps the fellow who gets this horse will try to jump him over a log, and the horse will fall down with him, as he did with me, and smash the robber’s nose, and knock his shoulder out of joint. That’s the way I’ll get even with him.”
“Three cheers for the champion rifle-shot and bear-killer!” yelled Johnny, for the twentieth time.
Again and again the ravine echoed with lusty shouts—even Archie lifted his pale face and joined in with a feeble voice—and having thus given vent to their enthusiasm, the boys pulled off their jackets and began the work of removing the grizzly’s skin.
“That will be a valuable addition to ourmuseum at home, won’t it?” asked Archie, stretching himself out in the shade of a tree close by. “When it is stuffed and mounted, it will be worth all our other specimens put together. I’d give something to know what Dick Lewis will have to say about it. Hallo!”
The boys looked up to see what had caused this exclamation, and discovered the trapper standing at a little distance from them, closely watching their operations. They had often seen him astonished, but never before had they seen such a look of utter amazement as that which now overspread his face. He stood with his body bent forward, his neck stretched out, and his eyes almost starting from their sockets. With one hand he held his horse, and in the other his rifle, with the butt of which he was thumping the ground energetically, as if giving emphasis to some thoughts that were passing through his mind. His whole attitude and appearance indicated that he was little prepared for the scene he was witnessing.
“Hallo, Dick!” exclaimed Johnny; “we’re glad to see you. You and old Bob can just hang up your fiddles now. There’s a hunterin the settlement who is a long way ahead of both of you.”
The trapper tied his horse to a limb of the nearest tree, and walked toward the boys. “You amazin’ keerless feller!” said he, addressing himself to Frank, “I b’lieve it’s my bounden duty to take this yere ramrod out of my gun an’ give you the best kind of a wallopin’.”
“You had better be careful how you talk to him,” said Dick Thomas. “He’s the man who killed Old Davy.”
“Don’t I know all about it?” exclaimed the trapper. “Didn’t I say to myself this mornin’, when you fellers left the rancho, that somethin’ was goin’ to happen? Didn’t I saddle up my hoss an’ foller you, to keep an eye on you, an’ haint you gone an’ fit an’ killed that ar’ grizzly bar afore I could find you, to lend you a helpin’ hand? You have; an’ it beats any thing I ever heern tell on. The next thing I know you will be foolin’ around among them hoss-thieves.”
This was the way Dick always lectured Frank and Archie whenever they did any thing that astonished him, and a stranger, to haveheard him speak, would have supposed that somebody had ordered him to watch the cousins closely, and keep them out of trouble; and that he had found the task an exceedingly difficult one to perform. The stranger would have believed, too, that he was very angry; but the boys knew that the fierce scowl he had assumed was intended to conceal a very different feeling—that he was highly elated over their victory, and that, before a week had passed, he would tell it to every body in the settlement. They knew, also, that the story would lose nothing in passing through his hands; for, although Dick always confined himself strictly to the truth when relating his own adventures, he did not hesitate to exaggerate a little when recounting the exploits of his “youngsters.”
“I wouldn’t be in Uncle Jeems’s boots fur nothin’,” said the trapper, filling his pipe and looking severely at Frank. “He promised your folks, afore we left Lawrence, that he would keep you out of all danger, an’ bring you safe back to your hum; but how he’s a goin’ to do it I can’t tell. I wouldn’t make no sich bargain as that ar’ with no man, ’causeI couldn’t live up to it. What’s the matter with you, little un?”
“I’ve got a broken head, and a lame shoulder, and a cracked nose, and somehow I don’t feel all right,” replied Archie.
“Don’t! Wal, tell us all about it.”
The trapper settled back on his elbow to listen, and Dick Thomas, who was a smooth-tongued fellow, related the story of their adventures from beginning to end. As he proceeded, the scowl gradually faded from the backwoodsman’s face; and when he told how Frank had stood there at the log, and risked his life to secure the retreat of the others, Dick slapped the young hero on the back so heartily that he felt the effects of the blow for a quarter of an hour afterward. When the story was finished, he unsheathed his long bowie and assisted the boys in removing the grizzly’s skin; and as soon as this had been done, he placed Archie on his horse, and led the way toward home.
Their morning’s work had sharpened the boys’ appetites, and the excellent dinner which the housekeeper served up for them rapidlydisappeared before their attacks. Even Archie disposed of his full share of the eatables, and after a hearty meal, pushed back his chair, declaring that he was all right, and ready for any thing the others had to propose, even if it was a fight with another Old Davy.
When the grizzly’s skin had been stretched upon a frame to dry, the boys lounged about the house for an hour or two, talking over the incidents of the morning; and then Johnny and Dick bade the cousins good-by, and started for home. Archie was lonesome and restless after they had gone. While Frank sat in his easychair, deeply interested in some favorite author, Archie lay stretched out on the bed, tossing his heels in the air, and scarcely knowing what to do with himself. His lost horse was still uppermost in his mind, and he wanted to talk about him, and about nothing else. There was Frank, as serene and undisturbed as usual, poring over the pages of some dry book, when he knew that the steed he valued so highly was within five miles of him! Archie did not see how any body could read under such circumstances, and he told his cousin so. He didnot want to stay in the house either; and, what was more, he wouldn’t. He wanted to go somewhere, and do something.
“Well,” said Frank, laying down his book, “let’s hear what you have to propose. I am quite at your service.”
“Suppose we beard the lion in his den,” said Archie.
“All right. Show me the lion.”
“O, I am not joking. Let’s visit Don Carlos. Mark my words now, Frank: that old rascal knows more about the horse-thieves, than any body else in the country. We are on pretty good terms with him, and perhaps he will invite us to stay all night. If he does, we may be able to learn something about the bridge of clouds, and the other strange things old Bob saw there. Will you go?”
“Of course. But I’ll tell you what it is: You are going to be disappointed. We must not let Don Carlos know that we suspect any thing, for if we do, we may get ourselves into trouble.”
“I guess we are smart enough to look out for that. We will listen to his stories, and hearhim rail at the robbers, and lament the loss of his fine horses, and all that, and act as though we believed every word of it. We mustn’t let Dick know where we are going,” added Archie. “He would be sure to make a fuss about it, for he has somehow got it into his head that he is our guardian in uncle’s absence.”
One would think that the cousins had already seen enough of excitement and perilous adventure, to satisfy any two boys in the world; and that, after their recent narrow escape from the clutches of Old Davy, they would think twice before undertaking so dangerous an enterprise as this, which Archie had called “bearding the lion in his den.” The way they went about their preparations, however, showed that they were in earnest, and that they were fully determined to learn more about the mysterious rancho, that is, if there was any thing more to be learned. Frank did not think there was. Of course the friendly old Spaniard would insist that they should accept his hospitality for the night, as he always did when they visited him. They had passed two or three nights under his roof, without seeing or hearing anything unusual, and they would do it again. As for Don Carlos’ complicity with the horse-thieves, that was all in Archie’s eye. It was only another of the thousand-and-one foolish notions he was continually getting into his head, and when morning came he would be obliged to acknowledge the fact. Archie, on the other hand, had made up his mind to see some queer sights during the night, if they remained at Don Carlos’ rancho. He knew that he would have to fight somebody, and he prepared for it by putting a small revolver into his pocket, as did Frank, also. He was satisfied, too, that Bob had seen his horse go into the Spaniard’s rancho; and, if he was still there, Archie would have him out, or he would raise a fuss about the old fellow’s ears that would make him think he had stirred up a hornet’s nest.
“Just think of it!” exclaimed Archie, indignantly. “Our horses are being used every night by those robbers! O, you may smile and shake your head as much as you please, but Iknowit is so!” Frank thought if his cousin’s convictions on this point were as strong as theblow he struck the table to emphasize his words, they must have been very powerful indeed. “Now, I can tell you in a few words just how this matter stands,” continued Archie, “and one of these days you will see that I am right. The robbers make their head-quarters at that rancho, and ride Roderick and King James on their plundering expeditions. They know that the animals are swift, and that if they are discovered they can run away from their pursuers very easily. But my horse sha’n’t engage in any such business. He is a good honest horse, and I am not going to have him taught any bad habits.”
In a few minutes the boys were in their saddles, and galloping through the grove toward the creek. They carried their rifles slung over their shoulders by broad straps, their navy revolvers in their holsters, and their small pistols in their pockets. They rode the same horses that had carried them through the fight with the grizzly, Archie remarking that although his nag was not much of a jumper, he was a good one to go, and he might have occasion to use a fast horse before morning. They succeededin leaving the rancho without the trapper’s knowledge; and in half an hour drew rein on the bank of the creek a short distance from Don Carlos’ rancho.
The building was like a good many others in that country—there was nothing remarkable about it, either in its appearance or history. It had stood a siege, and there were plenty of bullet-marks about it; and the same was true of the rancho in which Frank and Archie lived. It was built in the form of a hollow-square; the rough stone walls were five feet thick; and all the openings, except the port-holes, were protected by heavy plank doors and shutters, through which a rifle-ball could not penetrate. A tall flag-staff arose from the open court in the center, and from it floated the Stars and Stripes. Don Carlos was evidently patriotic.
The boys gazed long and earnestly at the building, and Archie was a good deal disappointed because he did not see some signs of the curious things the old trapper had witnessed there. They saw something else, however, at least Frank did, and he called Archie’s attention to it, by inquiring:
“Do you see the second port-hole from the right-hand side of the building?”
“I do,” replied his cousin; “and I see something sticking out of it. It looks to me like a spy-glass.”
“That’s just what it is. There is somebody in there watching us. And wasn’t that flag flying at the mast-head when we first saw it?”
“Of course it was,” answered Archie, beginning to get excited, “and now it is at half-mast. Now it is being hauled down altogether,” he added, as the bunting disappeared behind the walls of the rancho. “What can it mean? It must be a signal of some kind; and I—I—believe I won’t go any farther. I’ll return home and report the matter.”
“What good will that do?” asked Frank.
“Why, when uncle comes back, he can raise a crowd of men, and storm the old villain.”
“I don’t think he would do it. He would want the very strongest evidence before he would consent to assault a peaceable settler in his own dwelling, and that is something we haven’t got yet. Of course we can say that we saw somebody watching us through a spy-glass, and thatthe flag was hauled down when we came in sight; but that doesn’t prove any thing. If we should go home with that story, every body would laugh at us.”
“It is proof enough for me,” said Archie, “and I don’t care about trusting myself inside that rancho. I believe I’ll go back.”
“And I will go on,” said his cousin, riding down the bank toward the ford. “If Don Carlos asks me to stay all night, I’ll do it: and I shall feel as safe under his roof as I would at home.”
Archie pulled off his sombrero, and scratched his head in deep perplexity. He did not want to go home without Frank, and neither did he want to go with him into the rancho. The hauling down of the flag had made him timid. If it was not a signal, why was it pulled down at that time of day—two hours before sunset? If he had never been satisfied before that there was something wrong with Don Carlos, he was now. Beyond a doubt he was connected with the robbers—he was their leader, perhaps—and when he and Frank went into the rancho, they would find themselves surrounded by a crowdof villainous Mexicans, broken-down miners, and other desperate characters, who would never allow them to go out again. Worse than all, they could not hope for assistance, for they had left the rancho without telling any one where they were going; and when their absence was discovered, their friends would not know where to look for them.
“Frank,” exclaimed Archie, “are you really going in there?”
“I am, if I can get in,” replied his cousin, who was by this time half way across the ford. “Come on. I want to satisfy you that you have been wrongfully accusing an honest man.”
“And I’ll show you that I haven’t,” said Archie, galloping down the bank of the creek, and into the water. “If you are bound to go on, of course I shall stick to you.”
While the boys were riding toward the rancho they kept their eyes fastened on the port-hole, and saw that the person with the spy-glass closely followed all their movements. They discovered nothing else that looked suspicious, however, and when they dashed through the gate-way and drew up in the court, the receptionthey met with, from the proprietor of the rancho, went a long way toward convincing Archie that he had made a great mistake.
Don Carlos was a small, slim man, with a very sallow face, a long, hooked nose, and an immense gray mustache, which covered all the lower part of his face. He called himself a Spaniard: but he looked more like a German Jew, and talked exactly like one. He was as polite as a Frenchman; and when the boys rode up to the porch, he pulled off his sombrero, and stood bowing and scraping to them until they dismounted from their horses.
“Ach! here ish my goot leetle poys!” he exclaimed, in his broken English. “I peen so glad to see you. You shall shtay mit me now all night, of course, aint it? Peppo!” he added, in a louder tone, addressing a young Mexican who stood at a little distance, looking on—“you von grand rascal! dake dis horses to dem shtables. I do so hope dem horse-dieves won’t shteal ’em pefore mornings. Valk right in de house, leetle poys.”
“The more I see of this old fellow, the more I am convinced that he is a Dutchman,” thoughtArchie, as he followed Frank and the Don into the rancho. “I’ve met a good many Spaniards since I have been in California, but I never heard one talk like that.”
Their host conducted them through a long wide hall, the walls of which were ornamented with old-fashioned pictures and implements of the chase, and ushered them into an elegantly-furnished room, where he left them to take care of themselves; telling them that his herdsmen were out collecting a drove of cattle to be sent to San Diego, and that it was necessary that he should superintend their operations. If the boys wanted to read, there were plenty of books on the center-table; and if they did not feel like sitting still, they might walk about the rancho, and see if they could find any thing to amuse them. Supper would be ready at sunset; he would then be back, and would pass the evening with them.
“What do you think now, Archie?” asked Frank, when the Don had gone out. “Is this the sort of a reception a robber would be likely to extend to visitors? Do you suppose that if there was any thing wrong here, he wouldhave allowed us the freedom of the house so readily?”
“He does that merely to blind us,” replied his cousin. “He is more polite and attentive than he used to be, and that makes me suspicious. If we don’t wish ourselves a thousand miles from here before morning, I will make you a present of my horse when I get him.”
Frank recalled these words a few hours afterward, and told himself that Archie had more sense than he had ever given him credit for.
Frank, we repeat, was obliged to come over to his cousin’s way of thinking before he was many hours older; but now he believed his own opinions to be correct, and showed his contempt for Archie’s by settling back into an arm-chair, and becoming deeply interested in a book which he selected from among the numerous volumes on the center-table. Archie, being left to himself, walked restlessly about the room, looking at the pictures, gazing out at the port-holes, examining the weapons that hung on the walls, and so interested was he in his investigations, that his good-breeding alone restrained him from peering into closets and wardrobes. He kept up an incessant talking, but Frank’s answers were given only in monosyllables, and Archie finally became disgusted,and left him to read in peace. “You will turn into a book one of these fine days,” said he. “But I’ll tell you what it is, old fellow, you’ll not take things so very easily much longer.”
Archie continued his walk about the room, passing his hands over the walls, looking under the bed, and behind tables and sofas, as if searching for something that he was in a great hurry to find, and the last his cousin saw of him he was standing with his hands behind his back, and his head turned on one side, closely examining a large oil-painting which extended from the ceiling to the floor. The next time Frank looked up, he was alone in the room—Archie had disappeared.
“What trick are you up to now?” exclaimed Frank, laying down his book. “Come out from under that bed. What would you have to say for yourself if the Don should come in and find you there?”
But Archie was not under the bed, nor was he anywhere in the room. Frank called him, but there was no answer. He looked into every nook and corner of the apartment in which itwas possible that Archie could have concealed himself, and then he caught up his hat and hurried through the hall, looking into all the rooms he passed, and out into the court. The rancho seemed to be deserted, with the exception of a solitary Mexican, who stood leaning against a door-post on the opposite side of the court. This man scowled fiercely, and looked suspiciously at him as he came up; and instead of making inquiries about Archie, as he had intended, Frank thrust his hands into his pockets, and strolled slowly toward the stables, peering in at the doors and windows, and keeping one eye on the Mexican, who closely watched every move he made.
“Archie hasn’t had time to get far away,” thought Frank; “and no doubt he is roaming about the rancho, searching high and low for some evidence to confirm his ridiculous suspicions concerning Don Carlos; and that is something he won’t find, of course. That is a villainous-looking fellow,” he added, with another glance over his shoulder toward the Mexican, “and I should feel quite as well pleased if he would take less interest in mymovements. He acts as though he had been stationed there to watch me.”
Frank finally found his way to the stables, but without discovering any signs of the missing Archie. He found his horse there, and his cousin’s, standing quietly in their stalls; and he also saw several other fine animals, which the Don had doubtless brought in there for protection from the horse-thieves. Frank did not think it very probable that he would lose any more of his stock, for the most expert robber would have found it a difficult task to effect an entrance through those well-secured doors; and, more than that, Frank noticed that there were several beds in a small room adjoining the stable, and the garments, lassos, weapons, and other articles that were scattered about, showed that the apartment belonged to some of the Don’s Rancheros. The old Spaniard was not out on the rancho with his herdsmen, as Frank had supposed, but he was in this room, holding an earnest conversation with some one who disappeared very suddenly and mysteriously when Frank thrust his head in at the door. The latter thought, by his actions,that the old Spaniard would rather not have been discovered; but he greeted his guest very cordially, and seeing that he was alone, made hurried inquiries for Archie.
“He is out somewhere looking around, I suppose,” answered Frank. “No doubt he will turn up all right in a few minutes.”
“Ah, yes,” said the Don, with some anxiety in his tone; “but I would like to knowvarehe ish. Peppo! you von grand rascal!”
The young Mexican was on hand immediately. He came out of a dark corner of the stable, to which he had retreated when Frank came in, and where he had stood watching him.
“Peppo!” continued his employer, “it’s petter you go find dis leetle poys, and tell him we will have some suppers now.”
There was nothing in the old Spaniard’s words or manner to indicate that haste was desirable, but Beppo, perhaps, seeing or hearing something that escaped Frank’s notice, started off on a keen run. This seemed to be a signal to the Mexican who stood leaning against the door-post, for he walked rapidly across thecourt, and presently half a dozen Rancheros appeared and hurried about in different directions, all searching for Archie. The Don watched their movements, and so did Frank. The former was evidently growing uneasy, and his guest certainly was. The Spaniard stepped nervously about, talking hurriedly in his broken English on indifferent matters, and laughing uproariously at his own jokes; and Frank glanced toward the gate-way as if he had half a mind to take to his heels. He believed, now, that it would have been much better for him if he had kept at a respectful distance from Don Carlos and his rancho. A dread of impending evil, which he could not shake off, began to press upon him; and it was plain to him that if he was not in a scrape already, he soon would be. It is true that nothing had been said to induce this belief, but he had seen and felt enough to satisfy him that such was the fact. In the first place, it seemed to him that an air of mystery brooded over the rancho, and that the Don, in spite of his cordial greeting and jovial manner, was trying to conceal something from him. He acted, now, as thoughhe did not want him there. And then, the sudden appearance of those men was another thing that troubled Frank. Until within a moment he had seen but two persons on the rancho besides the Spaniard, but, at an instant’s warning, half a dozen herdsmen had sprung into view, and to save his life he could not tell where they had come from. They appeared at the same moment, and in different directions, as if they had come up out of the ground, or found their way into the court through secret trap-doors in the pavement. Why had they remained concealed? and what was the reason that Archie’s disappearance had created such a commotion among them? Frank judged from the old Spaniard’s words that he was particularly anxious to know where Archie was, and what he was doing; and this implied that there were things about the rancho that the Don did not want him to see.
Frank’s uneasiness increased as the search progressed, and finally he became thoroughly frightened when he noticed the excited looks of the Rancheros as they hurried past him, and heard the angry, threatening words whichthey exchanged with one another. The Don began to be alarmed also.
“Vell! vell!” he exclaimed, looking back into the stable for the twentieth time, to assure himself that Archie’s horse was still there, “vare ish dis leetle poys?”
“He may have gone out,” replied Frank, with as much indifference as he could command. “I’ll step to the gate and look for him.” “And when I get there,” he added, mentally, “I won’t stop. I’ll show you Greasers some running that will make you wonder. You may be all right in here, but I don’t like your company.”
Frank had great confidence in himself, and he was certain that if he could only get half way to the gate, he could elude any attempts that might be made to detain him. He had not the remotest idea, however, that any such attempts would be made. That would be a heinous offense in the eyes of the settlers, who would never allow it to pass unnoticed. Frank turned to leave the Don, but the latter stepped forward and laid a heavy hand on his arm. “I guess it’s petter you don’t go,” said he.
Frank was thunderstruck. The old Spaniard’s tone and manner showed him that he was in earnest, and he knew now that Archie’s suspicions were correct, and that he himself had been sadly mistaken in the opinions he had formed regarding his host. If he had been allowed his choice in the matter, he would much rather have been standing in front of that log, awaiting the onset of another Old Davy. He would have felt more certain of escape than he did now, surrounded as he was by those villainous Mexicans. A wonderful change had come over Don Carlos. His jovial, good-natured smile had given way to a terrible scowl, and his face was pale with rage or fear; Frank could not tell which. With the next words he uttered, he threw off the mask entirely, and appeared in his true character.
“This is von grand shwindle,” he exclaimed, making a sudden effort to seize Frank by the collar. “I know now why you come here to mine house. Hi, Bedro! make dat gate shut. It’s petter you don’t go, leetle poys.”
“It is better Idogo,” replied Frank, quickly. “I want you to understand that it willtake a man with more muscle than you have got to detain me.”
During the next two minutes the Don learned more of the qualities that go to make up a sixteen-year-old Young America, than he had ever known before. Frank was as quick as a cat in his movements, and he knew that if he hoped to escape from the rancho now was his time or never. Pedro was already hurrying toward the gate, to execute the commands of his employer, and if that gate was once closed on him, he was a prisoner. While the Old Spaniard was speaking, he thrust out his arm; but his fingers, instead of fastening upon Frank’s collar, closed only upon the empty air. An instant afterward the boy was half way across the court, and he and Pedro were having a lively race for the gate; while the Don stood watching them, his body bent forward, and his mouth and eyes open to their widest extent. He could not understand how Frank had escaped. The ease with which he had slipped out of his clutches bewildered him. But his inactivity did not long continue, for he speedily became aware that the clumsy Pedro was no match, in ahurried, off-hand foot-race, for the nimble young hunter.
“Hi! hi!” he yelled, stamping his foot frantically on the pavement; “catch him! catch him! Vat you making dere, Bedro? Von dousand tollars to de mans vot catches dat leetle poys! Two! dree! five dousand!” he added, in a still louder tone, seeing that Frank was rapidly leaving Pedro behind, and nearing the gate. “Ach! mine heavens!Ten dousand!”
The fugitive heard every word he said, and his wonder, astonishment, and alarm increased proportionately with the rewards the Spaniard offered for his capture; and how intense must have been his amazement and terror when he heard the Don declare in frantic tones that he would give twenty, forty, and finally, fifty thousand dollars, if he was captured alive and unharmed.
“It is some consolation to know that he doesn’t mean to kill me,” thought Frank. “I don’t intend to let him take me prisoner, either. The offer of every cent he is worth, could not make those awkward Mexicans run fast enough to beat me in a fair race.”
If Frank had run swiftly before, his headway was fairly astonishing now. He exerted himself to the utmost, and flew over the ground at a rate of speed that the fleet-footed Dick Lewis himself would not have been ashamed of. A few leaps brought him to the gate, through which he went like an arrow from a bow, and bent his steps toward the nearest patch of woods, which was about a quarter of a mile distant. The Rancheros followed him, but they might as well have tried to overtake a railway train, or a bird on the wing.
Don Carlos was almost beside himself. He stood in the gate-way gazing after the fugitive, flourishing his arms wildly about his head, shouting orders to his men in Spanish and English, and calling upon Frank to stop and surrender himself a prisoner, or he would do something terrible to him.
“I think it would be a good plan to catch me first,” said Frank, to himself, looking back at his pursuers. “I am like Dick Lewis now: my enemies are all behind me, and I know I am safe. Hallo! What’s that?”
It was a bullet, which whistled through theair most uncomfortably near his head. Another followed close after, and plowed up the ground in front of him, and then came the crack of two rifles in quick succession. Frank felt the cold chills creeping all over him; and the next time he looked back he discovered several men, whom he had not seen before, hurrying out of the rancho with their weapons in their hands, followed by three on horseback. This was a most discouraging prospect. He did not stand in much fear of the bullets (although it was by no means pleasant to hear them whistling around him), but he was afraid of those mounted men. He could not hope to distance them, and he trembled when he thought of the fate in store for him when they came near enough to reach him with their lassos. If they did not choke him to death, they would take him back to the rancho a prisoner, and that would be almost as bad. Of course he did not intend that they should do either if he could prevent it. He was armed, and if they succeeded in overtaking him, he would show them how he could use a revolver.
Frank had accomplished more than half thedistance that lay between him and the woods before the horsemen came out; and he hoped to be able to reach its friendly shelter before they could come up with him. He did it, too, although his escape was a very narrow one. As he dashed into the bushes he heard the lassos whistling through the air behind him, and he even felt the “wind” of one as it flew past his ear. But once fairly in the woods he was safe from those dreaded weapons. The Rancheros could not use their lariats among the trees, and neither did they attempt to follow him farther. They fired their pistols at him, and then began circling around the woods to cut him off from the creek, and place themselves between him and his home.
Frank kept straight on into the woods for at least two miles, without once slackening his speed, and then turned and ran toward the creek. When he came within sight of it, he sat down on a log to recover his breath, and to listen for the sounds of pursuit.
“I thank my lucky stars that they are all Mexicans,” panted he, glancing suspiciously through the bushes on all sides of him. “Ifthere had been a few such rifle-shots among them as Dick Lewis and old Bob Kelly I should not be here now. Fifty thousand dollars! I little dreamed that I should ever have a price set upon my head.”
For ten minutes Frank sat on the log, resting after his long run, and thinking over the incidents that had transpired at the rancho. He believed now that Don Carlos was one of the robbers; the evidence against him was strong enough to satisfy any one of his guilt. The air of mystery with which every thing was conducted; the unusual number of men on the rancho; the magical manner in which they had appeared the instant their services were needed; the Spaniard’s unreasonable alarm at Archie’s absence; and his attempts to detain Frank—all these things were against him. Frank understood now what the Don meant when he said that he knew why the boys had come there. He probably mistrusted that the settlers were suspicious of him, and had sent Frank and Archie to his rancho to spy out something. If that was his idea, Frank thought it a very ridiculous one; for he might have known thattwo boys would not have been selected to carry out so dangerous an enterprise, while there were such men as Dick and Bob in the country. His guilty conscience made him betray himself—that was the secret of the matter.
Frank was not yet safe by any means. He knew that Don Carlos and his men would leave no stone unturned to effect his capture—it would be dangerous to them to allow him to go home after what had transpired at the rancho—and that they would search every nook and corner of the mountains, and hunt him down as they would a wolf. Still he had no fears for his own safety; but, now that the excitement of the race was over, he was deeply concerned about his cousin. There was a mystery attending his disappearance that he could not fathom. He hoped that Archie had left the room while he was reading, and that he had slipped out of the rancho and gone home. That was not much like his cousin’s way of doing business, but it was the only reasonable way in which he could explain his absence.
“That boy could not long exist without getting into some sort of a scrape,” said Frank;“and if I ever put eyes on him again, I’ll watch him more closely than I have done heretofore.”
“Stand where you are; don’t move hand or foot,” said a gruff voice, breaking in upon his reverie.
Frank sprang up, and found himself face to face with a Ranchero, who stood holding his rifle to his shoulder, with his finger resting on the trigger.
IfDon Carlos had only known where his missing guest was all this while, and what he was doing, and what he was seeing, he would have had good cause for alarm. Archie was not at home, as Frank fondly hoped, nor was he outside the rancho. He was in a worse predicament than he had ever been in before, and was learning some things about Don Carlos and his house that greatly astonished him.
We said that the last time Frank saw him, he was standing before a large oil-painting in the room where the Spaniard had left them. It was a life-size picture of an Indian warrior; and so well was it executed that, as Archie stood looking at it, he almost expected to see the savage open his lips to give the war-whoop, and then draw the bow which he carriedin his hand, and discharge an arrow at him.
“The man who painted that was an artist, and understood his business,” said Archie, to himself. “I have seen lots of those fellows, and that’s just the way they look.”
Something in the picture, which he had not before noticed, caught his eye at this moment, and interrupted the thread of his soliloquy. The handle of the warrior’s hunting-knife, which he wore in his belt, was rounded off into a knob at the end, and Archie was sure that it stood out a little way from the canvas. He leaned forward and looked at it more closely, and sure enough it was a wooden button, which fitted into the end of the handle of the knife, and not a painted one. He stepped up and examined it with his fingers, and to his surprise it yielded to his touch.
“Now I’d like to know what this means,” thought he, pressing the knob harder than before. “This thing must be attached to a spring, because it comes back when I let go of it. Well—by—gracious!”
It was very seldom indeed that Archie usedany slang words, but sometimes, when he was greatly excited or astonished, he did like other boys—forgot all the good resolutions he had made regarding this bad habit. It was no wonder that he was amazed now, for the painting began to move as if it had been suddenly endowed with life. It opened before him like a door, swinging swiftly back on a pair of invisible hinges, and revealing a narrow, winding stairway which seemed to run down into a cellar beneath the outer wall. Archie stood like a wooden boy for a few seconds, his neck outstretched, his eyes dilating and trying to pierce through the thick darkness which enveloped the stairs, and then, scarcely knowing what he was about, he stepped cautiously into the passage. An instant afterward he would have given every thing he possessed, or ever expected to possess, if he had been a little more prudent; but then it was too late. The painting swung back to its place as swiftly and noiselessly as it had opened, and the smooth click of a spring-lock told Archie that he was a prisoner. He did not intend to remain one long, however. He understood the mystery of that secret door,and it would not be many seconds before he would get out again. Perhaps Frank would now be willing to look up from his book long enough to hear him tell of this wonderful discovery he had made; and perhaps, too, he would be ready to believe that he had some foundation for his suspicions.
Talking thus to himself, Archie groped his way back to the painting (for now that the opening was closed the passage was as dark as midnight), and began to pass his hands over it, searching hurriedly for the concealed spring. He now found that the back of the picture was formed of heavy oak planks, nearly a foot in thickness; or, to make the matter clearer, the whole contrivance was simply a ponderous door, with the painting spread over one side of it to conceal it. But where was the spring? Archie ran his fingers over every inch of the door, from top to bottom, but could not find it. He examined every one of the planks separately, and finally turned his attention to the huge blocks of stone which formed the walls, in the hope that he might find the spring imbedded in one of them. Five minutes—tenminutes—a quarter of an hour were passed in this way, and then Archie sank down upon the floor, all in a heap, panting and sweating as though he had been engaged in the most violent exercise. His face was very pale, his hands trembled as though he were suffering from an attack of the ague, and one to have seen him at that moment would have believed that he was almost overcome with fear. His words, however, did not indicate the fact.
“Now here’s fun,” said he, with a desperate attempt to keep up his courage; “here’s sport—here’s joy by the wagon-load. I am cornered easy enough, and it serves me just right for prying about where I had no business. What will the Don say when he comes back and finds me gone?”
As this thought passed through Archie’s mind, he sprang to his feet, the cold perspiration starting out anew from every pore in his body, and his heart beating fast and furiously. Whatwouldthe old Spaniard think when he found that one of his guests was missing, and, above all, what would hedo? If he was an innocent man, and Archie’s suspicions regardinghim were without any foundation, he would hunt him up and release him; there would be a hearty laugh all around; and the Don would have a long story to tell about the passage-way, the reasons why he had built it, and the use he had made of it. But suppose that Archie’s suspicions were correct—that Don Carlos was really one of the robbers, and that the passage led to some underground cavern where he and his men concealed their plunder—what would he do when he found that his secret had been discovered? Archie did not stop to answer this question, but once more searched all over the door for the spring; but with no better success than before. Then he pounded upon the door, and called his cousin; but the walls were thick, and the sound of his voice did not reach Frank, who read on in blissful ignorance of what was transpiring on the other side of the painting.
“He must have gone out,” said Archie, now beginning to be thoroughly alarmed, “and I am left to my own resources, which are scarce, I can tell you. What if one of the band should come up here with a light?”
Archie pulled his revolver from his pocket, faced about, and peered through the darkness in the direction of the stairs, listening intently, and almost imagining that he heard light footsteps approaching. But he was alone in the passage-way, and having satisfied himself on this point, he leaned against the wall to think over the situation, and determine upon some course of action.
“It would be awkward to be caught here—for the robber, I mean, for it is my opinion that he would go down those stairs with much greater haste than he came up. Of course there must be two ends to this passage, and as I can not get out here, I must try some other way of escape. I can’t be in a much worse fix than I am now.”
As Archie said this, he put his revolver into his pocket again, and began feeling his way along the wall toward the stairs. It was a dangerous undertaking, for the floor might be full of trap-doors, for all he knew, and one of them might open beneath his feet at any moment, and let him down into some dungeon; or, he might run against one of the robbers inthe darkness, who would slip a lasso around his neck, and make a prisoner of him before he could raise an arm to defend himself. He reached the head of the stairs, however, without any such misfortune, and slowly and cautiously felt his way to the bottom. There he found himself in a passage-way which ran at right angles with the one above. After a moment’s deliberation, he decided that if he followed it to the left it would lead him under the court (through which Frank was, at that very moment, running a race with Pedro for the gate), and that was the way Archie did not want to go. By turning to the right, if the passage ran far enough in that direction, he would reach the bank of the creek, and there he might find some way of escape. Having decided this point, he was about to move on again, when he was frightened nearly out of his senses by hearing a whisper close at his elbow:
“Beppo, is this you?”
The fight for which Archie had been bracing his nerves ever since he first made up his mind to visit Don Carlos’ rancho, was to come offnow—he was sure of that. He was much calmer than he had thought he could be under such circumstances, but still he trembled violently in every limb as he drew his revolver, and thrust it straight out before him in the direction from which the voice came. A person thinks rapidly when in danger, and during the moment’s pause that followed the question thus unexpectedly propounded to him, Archie thought over and rejected a dozen wild schemes which suggested themselves to him. One, however, he accepted. He would reveal himself to the man, and if the latter would agree to show him the way above ground, it would be all right; he would then be willing to believe that Don Carlos was an honest man, and that there was nothing wrong about him or his rancho. But if the man made an outcry, and began shouting for help, or tried to secure him, he would give him some idea of American pluck and muscle.
“Beppo, is that you?” asked the voice again, in the same cautious whisper. Then, before Archie had time to act on the resolution he had just formed, the man, whoever he was, continued:“here are the keys. We shall be ready in half an hour. Follow this gang-way, and enter the first door on your left. Be sure and lock the door after you, because there’s always somebody roaming about here, and you might be discovered. Do your work well, now, and the revolver is yours.”
A moment afterward Archie stood holding a bunch of keys in his hand, and listening with beating heart to the retreating footsteps of the man, who was hurrying toward the other end of the passage. He had never been more excited and alarmed in his life. If the man had brought a lantern with him, the fight he had been expecting would certainly have come off.
When the sound of the footsteps had died away, Archie drew a long breath of relief, and began to congratulate himself on his escape, and to repeat what the man had said to him. Two things were evident: one was that he had been mistaken for Beppo, a Mexican boy about his own age who was employed on the rancho; the other, that he had some sort of a secret commission to execute, and that for the faithful performance of his work, he would be rewardedby the present of a revolver. What that commission was, Archie neither knew or cared; he had something of much more importance to think about. Suppose the man should happen to meet the genuine Beppo, and should find out that he had given the keys to somebody else! Would he not try to ascertain who that some one else was, and wouldn’t he call for help, and begin a thorough search of the rancho?
“I haven’t a single instant to lose,” said Archie, to himself. “Let me see! I must follow this gang-way and open the first door on my left, and be sure and lock it after me. I don’t much like to do it, for there is no knowing what I may find in that room. I hope one of these keys will let me out of this den of robbers.”
So saying, Archie began to feel his way along the left wall of the passage, and presently came to the door of which the man had spoken, and which he succeeded in opening after trying several of his keys. Hastily passing through the door, he closed and locked it, and then began to feel a little more secure; although he did not know which way to turn next. If he keptstraight ahead, he might come in contact with some object, or step upon one of those trap-doors he so much dreaded. After a little hesitation he placed his hands upon the wall, and began moving slowly around the apartment, but had not taken more than half a dozen steps before he ran against something. A moment’s examination showed him that it was a table, with several articles upon it—a bowie-knife, a brace of pistols, two or three lassos, a lantern, and a box of matches. These last were just what he had been wishing for. He lighted the lantern, and then turned to take a survey of the room. It proved to be a sort of armory and depot of supplies. The walls were covered with weapons, and saddles, bridles, blankets, ponchos, and numerous other articles of like description, were scattered about over the floor. A hundred horsemen could have been equipped from that room.
As soon as Archie had satisfied himself that he was alone, he began to examine the objects about him a little more closely; and almost the first thing his eyes rested on was a piece of property belonging to himself.
“Isn’t it lucky that I didn’t speak to that man?” he soliloquized. “Didn’t I say that old Spaniard was one of the robbers? That’s my saddle. I would know it among a million. It is the very one that was on Sleepy Sam when Uncle James bought him in St. Joseph. Now, my horse is in this very rancho; and he isn’t far off, either. This settles the question of Don Carlos’ guilt.”