CHAPTER XXXII
As he was the only one who knew the route, Andrew West took the lead, the others following in Indian file. It was a fairly clear night, with numerous stars twinkling in the sky overhead. All was quiet, save for the distant rush of some mountain torrent over the rocks.
"I hope we are not too late," said Mark to Bob. "I don't want to lose all that gold."
"Nor I. But I don't think they'll hurry—unless they suspect that we have discovered the truth."
"Oh, they won't let the grass grow under their feet," put in Si. "They know what it means out here to be caught stealing."
The route lay down the opposite side of the mountain and then along a watercourse lined on one side with rocks and on the other with a patch of spare timber. Not a camp of any kind was in sight, for nothing in the way of gold had been discovered in that vicinity.
As the party moved forward, Maybe Dixon told a good part of his story, to which Mr. West and the other men listened with interest. He did not tell what the stolen gold was worth, but said it was "considerable," and the others understood.
"It is funny the greasers didn't try to get the gold alone," said one man.
"They didn't have spunk enough," answered another. "Behind it all, they are very cowardly. They went after Mark because he was a boy and thought they could get the nugget away from him with ease."
The journey to Five Falls took the best part of three hours and at its end Mark, who had not yet fully recovered from his sickness, was ready to drop from weariness. But he did not complain, for he realized how much was at stake.
"Can you go on?" asked Bob, who saw him falter a little.
"Yes, Bob, I am going on."
"It's rather tough on you. Why don't you let us go ahead alone?"
"No, I want to see the finish of this affair."
Five Falls was a narrow gorge between two hills of good size. Here the water of the river tumbled over a series of rocks, making a most picturesque bit of scenery. One of the hills was covered with low bushes, the other with a sweep of tall timber, including some trees of remarkable size.
"Well, here we are," declared Andrew West, as he came to a halt beside the falls. He spoke in a low tone, knowing that they must be cautious.
All in the party looked around. Nothing out of the ordinary was in sight.
"Let us divide into two parties," suggested Maybe Dixon. "One can take to one side o' the stream and one to tudder. If them rascals came up here they must be somewhere about."
The posse was divided as suggested. Mark, Bob, and Andrew West remained where they were while the others crossed the gorge, leaping from rock to rock where the falls were. Then all began to journey up the gorge.
"Wait! I see a light!" whispered Bob, presently. He pointed among the trees, some distance ahead.
"I see it too," declared Mark. "It must be a camp of some kind."
A low whistle was given—a signal that something had been discovered. At once Maybe Dixon's party halted and the old miner came to the edge of the gorge.
"What is it?" he asked.
"A light ahead. Must be a camp of some sort."
"Good enough! Go ahead, and we'll come over as soon as we can."
Andrew West, Mark, and Bob increased their speed, and soon came in sight of a rude shack, from the open doorway of which the light was streaming. They could see several men moving around.
"I'll wager those are the thieves!" exclaimed Bob. "Don't you see the tall hat of one of the Mexicans?"
He had scarcely spoken when a pistol shot rang out on the still air. It came from a point some distance in front of the shack. Then they saw a man run from some bushes towards the rear of the building.
"Did he shoot at us?" asked Mark.
"No, I fancy that was a signal," answered Andrew West. "They have spotted us and are going to try to get away!"
He was right, one of the Mexicans had been on guard. Now he ran back of the shack, to where several horses were tied.
"A posse is coming," he cried, to the other Mexican. "They are on both sides of the river. We must ride for it if we would get away!"
Sag Ruff and Morgan Fitzsimmons were looking over the stolen nuggets at the time—trying to decide how they might be divided. The swindler from the South understood Spanish and gave a start.
"What did he say?" asked Fitzsimmons.
"A posse is already after us. We'll have to get out," ejaculated Sag Ruff.
"So soon?"
"Yes, although that seems impossible." Sag Ruff swept the nuggets into a bag. "Come on."
They ran outside. The Mexican who had given the alarm was already coming around with the horses. He pointed down the gorge.
"I see them!" cried Sag Ruff.
"There are others, too,—on the other side!" gasped Morgan Fitzsimmons. "How in the world did they get here so quickly?"
"Something must have gone wrong," answered Sag Ruff. "Maybe they got out of that landslide in time to see us go away in this direction. But, no matter how it is, we have got to ride for it now, and ride hard!"
The men were soon in the saddle. The light was put out, and they started along a trail leading through the thick timber.
"Stop!" cried Bob. "Stop, or we'll fire on you!"
The rascals paid no attention. Then Bob fired, and so did Mark and Andrew West. In the meantime the others of the party were scrambling over the river as best they could.
The thieves did not take the time to fire back. None of them was hit, and soon a turn of the trail took them out of sight.
"Come on after them!" cried Si, as soon as he was across the stream. "Come on—we must catch them!"
"I don't see how we are going to follow on foot," sighed Maybe Dixon. "A man can't run against a hoss, nohow."
"He can if the trail isn't very good," insisted the former farm boy. "They may not know the way very well and get mixed up in the dark. I don't believe in standing still and doing nothing," he added, pleadingly.
"Neither do I," returned Bob. "Come, let's go ahead."
It was decided to follow the trail with all the speed possible. They covered a distance of several hundred feet when Maybe Dixon set up a shout:
"A hoss! A hoss!"
He was right, a horse was close by, in the timber, panting violently. He had a halter dangling from his head, showing that he had broken away in some manner.
"I thought they had an extra hoss with them when they rode off," said Andrew West. "This must be the animal."
"Perhaps it's a horse intended for Soapy Gannon," suggested Si, and struck the truth of the matter. The steed had gotten away from one of the Mexicans and the rascal had been afraid to lose the time necessary to catch him.
"I'll use that hoss an' go after them hot-footed," declared Maybe Dixon, as he captured the animal and swung up in the saddle. "If I can't bring 'em to terms I'll keep my eye on 'em until you come up."
"But they may travel for miles," said Mark.
"I'll fix it so you can follow me," said Maybe Dixon. "Hand me one of them flowering bushes."
The bush in question was of good size and covered with bright yellow flowers. The old miner tucked it in behind him.
"I'll drop a flower now and then," he said. "That will be easy to see." And then he rode off after the evil-doers, and was soon out of sight.
It was now growing light in the east, and soon day was at hand. The whole party marched on steadily, Mark being the only one to drag behind. Fortunately one man had thought to bring some rations along, and these were divided evenly all around. They washed the food down with a drink at a spring and kept on until noon. They were now away from the big hill and traveling towards a series of rocks backed up by tall cliffs.
"Hullo, here is a mining camp!" cried Bob, as they came to a turn in the trail.
"And horses!" ejaculated Si, as he caught sight of a number of animals.
The miners in the camp were just stirring. They had not seen the gold thieves but had talked to Maybe Dixon, who had asked them for the loan of their steeds, for the benefit of his friends. The miners were willing enough to let their horses go on a mission of justice, and soon Mark, Si, Bob, and all of the others were in the saddle.
"I am more than thankful for this," said Mark. "I couldn't have gone another step, try my best."
At the camp they procured some provisions, not knowing how long the chase might continue. With them went two of the miners, one of whom had been an under-sheriff in Missouri.
"We'll bring them to justice if it can be done," said this man, whose name was Peckham.
Maybe Dixon had evidently gotten a fresh supply of yellow flowers, for the trail was strewn thickly with them, so it could be followed with ease. It led through the upper end of the mining camp and then over the rocks and along the bottom of the series of cliffs just mentioned.
"This is certainly proving a long chase," said Andrew West, after several miles had been covered.
"The rascals will have to rest some time," answered Mark. "Their horses will give out. Luckily ours are fresh."
They kept on, and towards evening came to a spot where the cliffs were particularly rugged. They could see a long distance ahead and made out a figure on horseback, waving a hand in the air.
"It's Maybe Dixon!" cried Si.
"Perhaps he has lost the trail," came from Mark.
"Oh, don't say that," came from Bob, in fresh alarm. "They couldn't throw him as easily as all that."
As soon as he knew he was seen, Maybe Dixon rode his horse to a slight depression between the rocks, where he waited for the posse to come up. He was tired out, but his leathery face wore something of a smile.
"Where are they?" demanded Mark.
"Over yonder, in a cave," was the answer, and the old miner pointed out the place with his hand.
"You saw them go in?" queried Bob.
"I did, hosses an' all."
"Has the cave a back opening?" questioned Si, quickly.
"I don't think so, although I am not sartin."
"We'll soon make sure," put in Andrew West. "I'll ride up on top of the cliffs and some of you can go with me."
"I'll go," said Bob, promptly.
"So will I," added Si.
"I shall remain here with Maybe Dixon," said Mark. "And I think the others ought to remain too. Those fellows may make a break for liberty when we least expect it."
"Mark is right," said Peckham. "They may be planning a break at this very minute."
"Let us arrange a signal," said Maybe Dixon. "If either party wants help, fire three shots in rapid succession."
So it was agreed; and a minute later the party to ascend the cliffs rode away, to where a narrow path led upward.
"Be careful here, boys," warned Andrew West, who was in the lead. "A tumble might hurt you a good deal."
The trail was by no means an easy one, and as they mounted higher and higher it seemed to grow more dangerous. A single slip of a horse's hoof and the rider would have been thrown down a distance of a hundred feet or more.
"This is the kind of traveling I don't like," remarked Si, as he looked down to the rocks below and shivered.
"Don't look down—keep your eyes on the trail," said Andrew West. "If you look down you may get dizzy and fall out of the saddle."
Near the top of the cliffs the way was worse than ever. The man passed in safety and then came Bob. Si's horse came to a halt.
"I can't make that!" cried the former farm lad, in dismay. "If the horse tries it we'll go over, sure!"
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Bob. "Wait a minute."
He dismounted and caught Si's horse by the bridle. Then the steed came on, slowly and cautiously; and in a few seconds more the danger was over.
Once on top of the cliffs the riding was easy. Andrew West located the point below which the cave was situated, and they rode around it in several directions.
"I see something like an opening," said Bob, a few minutes later. "I think—look!"
He pointed to a split in the rocks. A Mexican had just appeared. He did not see them and was looking towards a valley far back of the cave.
"Is he alone?" whispered Si.
"He seems to be."
"Let us try to capture him!"
The three dismounted and crept forward, screening themselves behind some pointed rocks. Soon they were within a dozen feet of the Mexican, who had stepped away from the opening, to get a better look at the valley.
"Now!" cried Andrew West and threw himself forward. The two boys followed, and in a twinkling the Mexican was thrown down, and then a fierce struggle ensued.