"Harold, ahoy! We have a strong force of gauchos with us, and have surrounded the ruffians lying in the forest. Shoot any who happen to pass your way. We are closing up all round them."
From the depths of the forest there came now a commotion. Men called to one another, for as yet the position was not understood. But many of the ruffians understood English, and some had overheard Mr. Blunt's hail. They were surrounded. While they had no notion of such a thing, and indeed thought it impossible, the enemy had ridden all round them. Each must fight for himself.
They gave up all attempt to capture the small party who had withstood them so long, gave up all thought of combination, and promptly bolted like hares in all directions, the majority, however, rushing for the clearing where their horses were picketed.
"Wait till you see them clearly, and then bring them down," said Dudley sternly. "Mind, not a shot till they are close. We must take them by surprise."
The ambush into which the rascally gauchos fell was in fact such a surprise that many of them promptly threw up their hands and were secured. Half a dozen were killed at the first volley, and three others, who attempted to run, shared the same fate. For the honest fellows who were in Mr. Blunt's employ had no sympathy for such ruffians. On the pampas, where there was an entire absence of police or of any protective force, men had to fend for themselves, and robbers had to be dealt with severely.
"Place the prisoners all together, and set a guard over them," commanded Dudley, when it was seen that no more were coming their way. "Pietro, just count them, and let me know how many we have taken."
"Thirty-two, señor," came the answer, as the gaucho rapidly totalled the robbers who had been captured, and returned to the young manager's side. "A good haul, señor, and one which will put a stop to other bands attempting the same robberies. Thirty-two, and seventy-three horses."
"Amongst which will be the mounts they captured from my little escort. Now, we'll give our friends a hail."
Sharp reports had meanwhile been heard from different parts of the forest, sometimes three or four coming close together, while the majority were solitary shots, fired at some fleeing figure. There were shouts, too, and an occasional cry of pain.
"Ahoy there! Harold! Mr. Blunt!"
Dudley shouted at the pitch of his lungs, and very soon his employer and Harold appeared on the scene, their men straggling in behind them, two of the fine fellows carrying Pepito in their arms.
"Thirty-two prisoners, you say?" cried Mr. Blunt, casting a withering glance at the robbers, and then one of pride at his men. "Now, let us count them, for we want to be sure that none have escaped. Harold reports that five were killed in the neighborhood of the fort, so that thirty-seven are accounted for. How many were shot here?"
"Nine in all," came the answer.
"Then we have dealt with forty-six, and with the ruffian you so gallantly brought us, Dudley, we have accounted for forty-seven. Thirteen have escaped, and I have no doubt are now running for their lives through this forest. Well, let them go. Their tale will help to frighten others bent on a lawless life. And now to return to the estancia. Dudley, you will take Pietro and ten men, and will make for the house occupied by that rascally Antonio. Take possession of it, seize all people there, and keep a guard over any papers you may come upon. The remainder will escort the prisoners back to the estancia, where they will be kept till I can obtain a judge from the settlements. One of the rascals I could have dealt with, but I cannot hang so many on my own authority."
Resting in the clearing till the men had had a meal, the party divided again, Dudley and his escort riding to Antonio's house, which they seized without opposition. The prisoners taken in the action were mounted on the captured horses, their legs secured beneath the bodies of the animals, and their hands lashed firmly. Then the horses were roped in a long line, and once more took the track leading into the forest. A pile of arms and saddlery was left behind, to be fetched on a future occasion.
Two weeks later the robbers who had been captured were placed on trial at Mr. Blunt's estancia, and some ten of their number, against whom previous acts of violence could be proved, were hanged by order of the authorities. The remainder were sent down to Buenos Ayres, there to work in the prisons. As for Antonio, he was hanged before all his following, as a warning to those who were to be retained as prisoners.
"And now we shall be able to live peacefully," said Mr. Blunt a week later, when all the prisoners had been removed, and matters had settled down at the estancia. "There will be no more raids from the direction of the forest, for, thanks to Dudley, and to you too, Harold, both Indians and robbers have had a severe lesson. I have news for you both. Guess what it is.
"Then I will tell you," he went on, seeing that they only shook their heads. "I have need of a second manager, for I have purchased the whole of the estancia owned by Antonio Sarvisti. It is as large as this ranch, and needs an experienced man. Dudley Compton is the man I have selected."
The news was almost too good to be believed. Dudley had had visions of managing a ranch some day far in the future, and perhaps even of possessing one when he had accumulated sufficient money. And now——
"It is as large as this," said Mr. Blunt, "and you will start with an ample stock of cattle. You will be in complete control of the place, and will merely report to me on occasion. So that you may not be too much alone, I will build a house close to the borders of the forest, through which paths shall be cut. There Harold and I will take up our residence. That is, if our young friend cares to remain and accept the post of manager on this estancia."
"Would he accept it?" Harold's eyes were shining brightly. There was a suspicious twitch about the corners of his mouth as he blurted out an acceptance.
"Rather!" he said. "That would be jolly! We shall still continue the same happy family."
Little remains to be told of the doings of Dudley Compton and his friends. In three years the estancia which he managed had become a model establishment, which commanded the admiration of the neighboring owners. But there was one great defect. Dudley was lonely. He was a long ride from Mr. Blunt and Harold, and at nights the hours hung heavy on his hands. Need the reader be surprised to hear that our hero was more than interested in the arrival of Mr. Blunt's daughter, that his visits to his old employer became noticeably frequent, and that when some months had gone by he was able to persuade the young lady who had arrived that his own little house on the neighboring ranch was comfortable? The two young people were married within a year, the gauchos from far and near collecting together to cheer them and drink their health. And in due time, as the years rolled by, and age began to tell on Mr. Blunt, his two young managers became partners on the ranches. To this day they are there, white-haired and somewhat stiff and aged. But that firm friendship, commenced when at school and renewed after a painful break, still exists between them. The wide, rolling plains have been their home ever since those early days when first they made the acquaintance of the Roughriders of the Pampas.