Feeling that it would do him no good to keep on tolling the bell he gave up the task for the time being, planning to ring it wildly in the very middle of the night. The men would no doubt be asleep and he could ring it out in such a way as to bring them to their feet with fast beating hearts, convinced that the place was haunted by a spirit that rang the bell. If they persisted in staying even after that he would keep ringing the bell at intervals, taking care not to break the rope, which, fortunately for him had originally been tarred and so was preserved.
With that thought in mind the professor pulled his coat more closely around him, curled himself up on the hard floor and went to sleep. His sleep was fitful and restless, and after two hours of it he had the impression that something nearby was scratching. Awakening at last he sat up, wide awake in an instant, to find that the steady scratching sound was no dream, but an actual fact, and seemed to come from the wall beside him.
The scratching sound continued to come as the professor listened, and he got up and bent his head close to the wall. It sounded to him as though someone was scraping the rock wall on the other side of his cell, and he was puzzled over the circumstance. There was a measure of hope in the sound, perhaps the boys had arrived and were trying to break through to him. But as he continued to think it over he realized that it could not be so. The dungeon was deep in the earth and it would be impossible for them to get down on a level with his cell. The only other thing he could think of was that there was a prisoner in a cell next to his.
It might easily be possible that Sackett, in some of his other dishonest games, had taken someone else prisoner and the man was trying to break through to him. In that case it behooved the professor to try and help whoever was coming through the wall of his dungeon. He took the cigar lighter from his pocket, made it flash and then looked at his watch by its brief blue flame. It was now one o’clock in the morning.
Continuing to make flashes the teacher watched the wall and after a time found the rock upon which the unknown man was working. It was a large block in the very center of the south wall, and under the soft blows of the man on the other side it was already slightly loose. The professor could see it move. He took out a knife which he had and began to pick at the edges on his side, chipping carefully and as noiselessly as possible. It was evident that the person on the other side knew that he was helping for the scraping stopped abruptly but after a moment it was resumed.
They worked on in silence, the professor listening for sounds from upstairs, but none came. The men were evidently asleep or they had left the place altogether, for he heard no movement and he was not interrupted in his labors. He found that the soft and rotted material between the stones was easy to dislodge, and his mysterious helper was pushing as he worked, so that the huge stone was beginning to move toward the cell of the professor. Only a fraction of an inch at a time, but it was enough to give the teacher hope, and finally it was far enough out to allow him to get the tips of his fingers under the rough edge of the stone.
By working it back and forth the professor at length got it loose. It came out with a rush, nearly bending him double with the unexpected weight. At the same time a light flared in his eyes and he hastily deposited the stone on the floor of his dungeon. When this was completed he straightened up and confronted his companion.
It was Yappi, the mestizo. He held a torch of pitch wood in his one hand and a keen knife in the other. He had evidently worked hard at the stone, for his hands were dirty and so was his mouth and forehead, showing that he had stopped more than once to wipe them with his dirty hands. The professor was glad to see the man but more than astonished at what he saw back of him. The ranchman was standing in a vaulted underground passage, which ran back a distance that the professor could not make out.
“Yappi!” cried the professor, in a low voice. “How did you get here?”
“I followed you, senor,” said the old man, simply. “It was somewhat hard work, for my feet are not so swift to run as they once were. But when I knew that they had carried you off to this castle I laughed inside, for I knew this castle very well.”
In one sense Yappi was a mystery. He was an ordinary mixture of Spanish and Indian, and yet not ordinary in other ways. He possessed a dignity and his English was perfect. Ned Scott could never learn where he got it. Except for rare periods when he became sulky or falsely sensitive he was always steady and reliable. The professor had greatly misjudged him when he had thought him a coward, and later on apologized, an apology which was very graciously accepted.
“What is this underground passage?” whispered the professor eagerly, forgetting his situation in his interest.
“It is as old as the castle, senor, and I have known of it since I was a child. Many times I have played around these ruins. But come, we waste time and must be going.”
The opening that the removal of the stone had made was not a big one and the professor had a hard struggle to get out, in fact Yappi was compelled to haul him through bodily. Of a necessity the professor squirmed out and landed on his face, grumbling at the man who had made him resort to so clumsy a method of action. Once in the passage he looked around, finding that it was made of stone and arched overhead, the entire height being about seven feet. Consequently they were not compelled to bend over, and they hurried through the passage in comfort, the ranchman in the lead.
“What was this passage ever made for?” the professor asked.
“I do not know, senor. It may be that once that room was not a dungeon, or it may be—but who knows? Only I happened to know of the passage and knew that they would put you in that cell, so I have been at work for some hours on the stone.”
“I certainly appreciate your hard work, Yappi,” said the professor.
The mestizo made no reply. The professor noted that the passage was sloping upward somewhat, and before long he felt cool fresh air on his cheek. Near the entrance Yappi extinguished the torch by grinding it under his heel and they proceeded in the darkness, until the mestizo stopped and grasped his arm, pointing silently ahead.
The end of the passage was before them, and lounging there, a rifle in his hands, was the mate Abel. They could make out the lines of his body plainly as he stood near a mound, totally unconscious that he was within five feet of a secret tunnel. The professor could see that the mouth of the secret passage was screened in some dense bushes and that it curved right up from the ground. But in spite of all their brilliant work Abel suspected something, and for the time being at least they were halted.
They held a council of war right there, speaking in whispers. It was evident that the mate had heard something or had the feeling that all was not well, for he stood on his guard, the rifle held slightly forward. Yappi was for rushing him and fighting it out, but the professor opposed it firmly. The man was armed and Yappi was not, and the ranchman was old and none too strong. Beside all that, the professor had another thought.
He asked the old man if he had heard the bell tolling and the mestizo replied that he had. Professor Scott then went on to tell him how it was done, and to propose that he steal back and ring the bell, thus puzzling the men and taking Abel away from his most inconvenient post. The mestizo gravely approved of his plan and together they retraced their steps until they came to the hole in the wall.
Knowing where the bell rope was even in the darkness the professor insisted upon being the one to go back into the dungeon, so with Yappi’s help he once more pushed and puffed his way through the hole. He landed on the other side pretty well mussed up.
“Confound these fellows,” he growled inwardly. “I’ve lost several pounds squirming in and out of these holes!”
He had regained his feet and was tiptoeing toward the bell rope when a warning hiss from Yappi reached him. He turned toward the hole.
“What is it, Yappi?” he whispered.
“Come back! Light coming!”
Surely enough, at that moment a light flashed on the winding steps and began to descend. The professor made a wild dive for the hole and then stopped with a groan. It would take him several moments to worm his way back into the passage, and already it was too late for that. Sackett was coming down the stairs with the lantern, and he was now in plain sight around the last turn.
For an instant the professor remained rooted to the spot as though paralyzed. The leader of the gang was approaching the door, holding the lantern before him, his eyes squinted more than usual as he tried to see into the cell. Yappi had disappeared somewhere, and the professor felt suddenly alone and miserable.
Sackett looked in the dungeon and his eyes fell on the block which had been removed. With a snarling oath he saw the hole in the wall and turned red and angry eyes on the professor. But the old teacher had decided on his course of action.
Without fully realizing why he did it the professor stepped to the bell rope and pulled it with all his strength. The bell in the tower pealed out with a terrific clash, sending the tocsin booming out over the mountain side. Sackett saw the move and a great light swept over him.
“So!” he shouted, above the clanging of the bell. “You’re the one who is ringing that bell!”
Swinging the handle of the lantern over his arm he dived viciously into his pocket for the key to the padlock. As he did so there was the sound of running footsteps over his head and Abel’s voice reached them.
“That bell is ringing again, Sackett!” the mate cried, his voice showing his alarm.
“Yes, and here is the bird that is ringing it!” roared the leader. “Get down here right away, Abel! Where is Manuel?”
“He ran away, scared to death,” replied the mate.
“Get down here and help me choke this old one,” commanded Sackett, thrusting the key into the padlock.
But Abel called down once more, and there was a new note in his voice. “Never mind him, Squint! Get up here as fast as you can! Here come a whole rescue party, with all them blasted kids in it!”
The professor gave the bell one last pull of triumph and then let the rope go. Sackett hesitated for a moment, muttering savagely to himself and holding onto the padlock and key. Then he turned and ran up the steps, dashing the lantern against the wall in his hurry, causing the glass to break and go tinkling down the stone steps.
The four boys hastily armed themselves to go and find the professor. Ned packed some provisions in a knapsack and slung it behind his saddle, not knowing just how long they might be on their hunt. The other boys watered their horses and Ned’s and waited around for him to get ready.
Just before leaving Ned made a final look around, greatly puzzled at the absence of Yappi and the cook. “Must have taken them prisoner, too,” was his conclusion, as he joined the others. It was a somewhat grim cavalcade that swung out of the ranch yard.
There were two possibilities, the sea and the mountains. One guess was as good as the other, but Ned chose the mountains and they headed that way. They had gone but a scant mile when Don pulled up.
“Who is this coming?” he asked, pointing to a lone figure which was running over a nearby hill.
“Looks like the cook,” said Ned. It was Spanci and he drew nearer, evidently recognizing them. When he came up he was slightly out of breath but able to talk.
“Spanci, where have they taken my father?” asked Ned, in Spanish.
“They have taken him to the mountains, senor, but do not fear, Yappi is with him, trailing them.” The cook then went on to tell of the raid and of Yappi’s stealthy trailing and his own effort. “I ran to the ranch of the Senorita Mercedes, senor, and she has sent her overseer and two men out to the mountain to aid your father.”
Ned thanked the old Indian for his devotion and the cook went on back to the ranch, to await the turn of events. Ned was greatly relieved to hear that Yappi was on the trail, and he knew that the old mestizo would stick to it and help his father no matter what turned up. It was with a much more cheerful heart that the party rode on toward the mountains.
“No doubt they will stop and hold dad somewhere for a day or two,” argued Ned. “We should run across them shortly, and if it is possible Yappi will leave some kind of a guiding sign.”
“The best part of it is that we know now that they didn’t go toward the sea,” put in Terry and Ned nodded.
They stopped briefly late in the afternoon to eat and rest the horses and in the early evening reached the edge of the mountain range. Once within the shadows of the mighty trees they were at a loss as to how to go. Had the party gone north or south? It was a big decision to make, for if they proceeded far in one direction and found that they were wrong they would have to retrace and lose valuable time. Just as the last shadows of the day were stealing across the sky they stopped for a council of war.
“There is nothing to indicate which way they would be likely to go,” said Jim.
“Wouldn’t they be most likely to go south, to get away into a wilder country?” asked Terry.
“Maybe,” said Ned. “But the northern part of the range is the wildest. So we can’t tell. They may have even gone right on over, to the waste of wilderness on the other side.”
“Whichever way we guess we may be dead wrong,” murmured Don.
“Yes, and we can’t afford to be wrong,” Ned answered. “Look here, we’ll have to split the party.”
“Split the party?” echoed the others.
“Yes. Don and I will go south, and Jim and Terry north and over the top. In that way we should be able to cover a lot of territory. I propose that we make this spot our meeting place, and that we all assemble here at seven o’clock tomorrow morning to compare notes. Let’s have a signal of three shots. That will mean to either come back to the meeting place, or ride toward the shots.”
“Better make it the signal to ride toward the shots,” advised Don. “We’ll repeat the shooting and keep it up until the other party joins us. But if one party picks up Professor Scott it had better ride back here with him and fire the shots from here, because we all know just where this place is and can find it easily.”
“That’s right,” agreed Ned. “Of course, we are splitting our party and lessening our strength.”
“I don’t see that we can help that,” Jim argued. “If we were looking for something that didn’t require every minute we could keep together and take our time. But there is no knowing what the outfit will do to the professor. Besides, two of us should be able to handle those fellows, even if there are three of them.”
“We should be able to depend on a surprise attack,” said Terry.
“Yes,” agreed Ned. “What is that?”
The others looked at him questioningly. Ned listened intently. “I thought I heard the sound of a bell tolling,” he said.
“Where would there be a bell around here?” asked Don.
“I don’t think that there is a bell nearer than the mines. I guess I must have imagined it, that is all. Well, it is growing dark. Shall we separate now?”
“Guess we might as well,” the others agreed.
With mutual goodbyes and agreeing to meet again at the grove in which they were at present stopped, the four boys split into two groups and went in opposite directions. Terry and Jim rode north and up the mountain, and Ned and Don began to make their way south, moving up the mountain on a gradual slant.
“Funny about that bell,” Ned said, as they rode slowly forward. “I could have sworn to it that I heard a bell ringing.”
“What kind of a bell?” asked Don.
“Sounded like a church bell, and it seemed to be tolling. But I guess it was some other sounds that I mistook. Certainly there is no church anywhere around here.”
“Doesn’t look as though there is,” grinned Don.
The sun had now set on the other side of the giant range and they were in total darkness. Knowing that it would be useless to push on very rapidly during the night they planned to put up a temporary camp on some ridge and wait there until daylight came. That would give them a few hours to look around before returning to their meeting place to compare notes.
“Guess we might as well camp and eat,” Ned suggested, and they found a spot that was dry and sheltered, where they speedily kindled a small fire and made some coffee. Sandwiches went with it and then they settled down beside the fire, talking quietly and keeping both ears and eyes open for any strange sound. It was early when they turned in and slept soundly.
How long they had been asleep was a matter of conjecture, but they were shocked into a state of wakefulness by the furious tolling of a bell. It was near at hand, and they leaped to their feet with rapidly beating hearts. Alone there on the mountain fastness the sound was awe-inspiring and unpleasantly thrilling, and both boys felt chills running up and down their backs. The bell which was ringing so mysteriously was not more than a hundred feet from them.
“My goodness, what in the name of glory is that!” gasped Ned, as the horses moved restlessly back and forth.
“Your bell,” cried Don, snatching up his rifle. “We were camped almost on top of it!”
Ned secured his weapon. “Never mind the horses, let’s see what is up,” he shouted. They started on a run in the direction of the sound of the bell, breaking recklessly through the undergrowth. In less than a hundred yards they emerged into a clearing and came upon the ruins of a castle, in the tower of which the bell was tolling madly.
A man stood in a doorway, a faint light behind him. He had seen them coming and shouted something to someone within. The bell ceased to toll and the boys pressed on, straight for the figure in the doorway. It was joined by another and Ned raised a shout.
“Sackett!” he cried. “I guess we’ll find dad now!”
His answer was a shot from Sackett’s revolver, and they threw themselves flat on the ground, to send two high shots whistling through the narrow doorway. Had Sackett and Abel known that they were alone the two outlaws would not have run, but they were unable to make out anything accurate against the black trees and thought that a full party had arrived. The two men did not linger, but made their way out over the ruins of the first floor and escaped the boys hearing them take to their horses.
“They didn’t take dad with them,” cried Ned, leaping to his feet. “He must be in the house yet.”
They entered the castle, to find a candle in a bottle giving light to the single good room which remained of the ruins. Seeing the door in the side of the wall Ned and Don made for it, the former taking up the candle as they did so. They had no more fear of the bandits and they fairly ran down the stairs, to find Professor Scott waiting at the barred door.
“Dad!” cried Ned in delight. “So you are really here?”
“Oh, yes, and I thought I’d be here for sometime,” smiled Mr. Scott. “You boys arrived just in time. How did you like my bell concert?”
“If it hadn’t been for that we might never have found you,” said Ned. He broke the padlock with the butt of his gun, and then stepped hastily back. “What is that?”
A dark figure was worming through the hole in the wall of the dungeon. “Don’t be afraid,” the professor said cheerfully. “It is Yappi, who is joining the party.”
The padlock was broken off, the door opened and Ned and his father embraced warmly. He shook Don by the hand and after hasty explanations had been made they followed Yappi up the stairs. The mestizo had refused to accept any thanks and took the lead in getting them out of the place.
They made a hasty search but found nothing of importance. The men had escaped on their mounts, and it was useless to think of following them. Yappi took them to the mouth of the underground passage and showed them how to drop down in it, and they walked along it back to the dungeon and then once more went back to the courtyard before the castle.
“The rascals either took my horse or loosed it,” said the professor. “I guess I’ll have to walk home.”
“No, no, senor,” said Yappi, quietly. “I have provide for that. Two horses in yonder bush.”
And he went to the thicket indicated and led out two horses. They praised his foresight lavishly but he was indifferent to their praises. Ned then proposed that they go back to the meeting place.
Accordingly they mounted and went down the mountain to the place where they had left Terry and Jim. It was decided to wait until morning for the other two, rather than fire off their guns to attract them.
“They should be here at seven in the morning, and it won’t be long before it is that time,” Don said. “So we might as well wait.”
So they waited, sleeping by turns, waking at last to greet a fine warm day. Seven o’clock came and passed and no sign of the others was to be seen. When a half hour had passed they began to fire their guns at intervals, but there was nothing but silence after the echoes had broken in different places over the mountain sides.
Refusing to be worried over it they ate breakfast and again fired their guns, riding out from their camp for a few miles in either direction. But when ten o’clock in the morning came they once more assembled in the camp and faced the bitter facts.
“Well,” said Ned, in despair. “Now those fellows are gone. They must have become lost.”
“Either that,” said Don, gravely. “Or they have fallen into the hands of Sackett!”
Terry and Jim had made their way northward and up the mountain. It was growing dark and they wished to cover as much ground as possible before the night would make their task difficult. They planned to seek some high point and camp there, watching the mountain sides for a sign of a fire or light of any kind. With this in mind they pushed steadily on, winding up the sloping side of the range.
When darkness finally came on they pitched camp, a process that consisted of very little else than getting off their horses and building a fire. There was a chill in the air which made them glad of the small fire, and they ate a hearty supper beside it, discussing the business at hand.
“If we find that nothing has been discovered,” said Jim, “we’ll have to beat up the mountain in deadly earnest in the morning. We’re satisfied that they didn’t go toward the sea, but we must take care that they haven’t skipped out of these mountains.”
“Right you are,” agreed the red-headed boy, as he poured out coffee, “but there must be a million hiding places in these mountains, and we’ll have to draw mighty fine lines. I suppose there is no use of going any further tonight?”
“I hardly think so,” rejoined Jim, thoughtfully. “We don’t know the country and we may run into some trouble. We are on a knoll here and should be able to see any light that would show on the mountain.”
“Suppose someone should see our fire?” asked Terry, practically.
“There isn’t much danger of that,” said Jim. “The fire is small and we are up pretty high. When we go to sleep the fire will die down and probably go out. We can comb a few miles of the woods before we go back to meet Don and Ned.”
After the meal was over the boys cleaned up around their camp site and stood for some time on the crest of the rise looking down into the blackness of the forest below them. There was no sign of life in the dense trees and no light was to be seen. Jim and Terry once more seriously considered the possibility of making a night search and then finally decided against it.
“I certainly am sleepy,” yawned Terry, as they made their way back to the fire.
“Well, as soon as we gather some wood we’ll turn in,” suggested Jim. “I don’t know that it is necessary to keep the fire going all night, but we will have wood at hand for the first thing in the morning so that we can build a fire without wasting any time.”
With their knives and their hands the two boys gathered enough wood to last them for several hours and then gave a final look at the horses. Then each of them took his blanket from the pile of equipment, stacked his gun alongside, loosened shoes and neckties and rolled up in the blankets.
“If either one of us wakes up he can put wood on the fire,” said Terry, as he settled himself in the blanket.
“Yes, but don’t wake up purposely,” advised Jim.
They went to sleep without any trouble, being pretty well tired from the day’s journey. The air was cool and fresh and they were healthy young men, so they slept soundly. Terry was perhaps the lighter sleeper of the two, and it was he who shook Jim into wakefulness after they had been asleep for a few hours.
“What is up?” asked Jim, awaking swiftly, his brain working perfectly.
“Listen and see if you don’t hear a bell ringing!” whispered Terry.
Jim listened, and in spite of himself he felt his flesh quiver. The mountain was dark, the wind fitful, and the fire was a dull red. From off in the distance the sound of a bell was heard, a bell that clashed and rang without rhythm. The sound was far away and very faint, and when the wind blew with a slight increase in force they lost the sound.
“That’s funny,” murmured Jim, propped on his elbow.
“What do you suppose it is?” whispered Terry.
“I haven’t the least idea. I don’t know where there could be a bell around here. It might be possible that there is a village nearby and for some reason or other they are ringing the town bell.”
“Maybe. Shall we go down, follow the sound, and see what it is?”
“I don’t see why we should,” Jim argued. “It might simply be a wild goose chase. The sound is coming from the south, and maybe Ned and Don will investigate. I guess we had better stay where we are.”
“I guess you are right,” Terry agreed, throwing some wood on the fire. “Back to sleep we go.”
Jim followed Terry’s advice. The red-headed boy dozed and woke up, staring at the sky and moving restlessly. The sound of the bell had stopped and he closed his eyes and once more dozed off. He had slept lightly for perhaps an hour when he woke up, his senses alert.
There had been a sound near the camp. The horses were moving restlessly and Terry raised himself on his elbow and looked into the shadows. The fire had burned low again and he could not see far. He debated whether to wake Jim or not, and then decided not to.
“Getting jumpy,” he thought. “I must go to sleep.”
But at that moment two shadows moved quickly from the tall trees and toward the fire. With a warning shout to Jim, Terry rolled out of his blanket and reached for the nearby guns.
“Leave your hands off them guns!” snarled Sackett, as Jim kicked his way clear of his coverings.
Terry looked once at the two outlaws and the guns which they had in their hands and decided to give in. Jim scrambled to his feet and stood beside him, dismayed at the turn events had taken.
“A couple of bad pennies turned up,” muttered Terry, inwardly angry at the new developments.
“All those kids weren’t together,” said Abel, aside to Sackett.
“I see they weren’t. Well, we’ll take these youngsters along,” replied the leader, taking their guns from the tree where they were leaning.
“What do you want with us?” Jim demanded.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” retorted Sackett.
“You meddling kids made us lose the old man so we’ll just take you along for a little ride.”
“Ned and Don must have rescued the professor,” said Jim to Terry.
“You never mind what happened!” growled Abel, in such a manner that they knew their guess was correct. “Get your horses and come on!”
“Where are you taking us?” asked Terry.
“Mind your own business,” snapped Sackett. “Gather up your junk and hurry up about it.”
“I see,” nodded Terry. “I’m going somewhere and it isn’t any of my business where! And Jimmy, my boy, all this nice equipment that Ned gave us is just junk!”
“Quit your talking,” commanded Abel. “We have no time to lose.”
In silence the two boys gathered up the blankets and the camping kits, strapped them on the horse under the watchful eye of the mate, and then mounted. Sackett whistled and Manuel appeared, leading three horses. The outlaws sprang into the saddle and Abel took the lead, the other two hemming in the boys from the rear. Abel turned his horse’s head down the mountain and toward the sea.
“Too doggone bad we didn’t keep a sharper lookout,” Terry grumbled.
Jim shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps, but I don’t know. These fellows were running from Don and Ned, and their falling in on us was an accident. We’ll have to keep our eyes open and see if we can give them the slip.”
The horses picked their way down the mountain expertly, and they had worked several miles to the southward before they rode out on the open plain. Daylight was now not far off, and they went on in silence, both parties keenly awake to the slightest movement of the other. When daylight did break over the plain they were miles from the mountain and almost to the sea. There had been no chance to make a break and Terry and Jim resigned themselves to their fate.
No halt was made to eat, and the boys found that they were very hungry and somewhat tired. What little sleep they had had was only enough to refresh them sufficiently to keep going, and they would have liked to lay down and enjoy a full, untroubled sleep. But they knew that if they were ever to escape from Sackett and his men they must be on the alert every minute.
They rode steadily onward, the men apparently indifferent to the thought of breakfast and the boys grimly uncomplaining. Jim was more used to a horse than Terry and did not mind the ride, but the red-headed boy was growing restless. From time to time the men looked back at the distant mountains, but as they were now many miles below the vicinity of the ruined castle there was nothing to be feared from the other party. The sea was now very near and Jim thought he recognized the country.
“If I’m not mistaken we rode over this country yesterday,” he said aside to Terry.
Before them at a distance of less than a mile, was a high bluff, and when they rode to the edge of this bluff the boys saw a familiar sight. Directly below them was the tannery which they had stopped to inspect on the day before. It was at this point that the Mexican slipped out and took the lead, showing them a steep and winding path that ran down beside the cliff and led to the beach below. Down this the party made its way, the nimble horses bracing their feet expertly, and after some twenty minutes of steady descending they emerged at length onto the hard sand of the beach.
Manuel still kept the lead, riding up to the tannery, and at one of the smaller sheds he alighted from his horse, an example which was followed by the others. The boys were not sorry to follow suit and when they had done so Manuel took the horses and lodged them out of sight in the main building.
“Say,” demanded Terry. “Haven’t you fellows any stomachs? I’m starved!”
Sackett opened the door to the smaller building with a grin on his ugly face. “We’re all hungry,” he said. “Abel, cook up some grub.”
“Not while them kids are here,” said the mate, promptly. “Let them do the cooking.”
“I’m too hungry to say ‘no’ just now,” said Jim, promptly. “Somebody get me wood and I’ll make breakfast.”
Abel brought wood while Manuel went up the bluff and disappeared. Sackett sat on a ledge near the door, keeping a watchful eye on the boys. Jim cooked an excellent breakfast and the men enjoyed it. Manuel had come back and reported briefly.
“Ship’s coming in,” he said in Spanish, but the boys understood him.
Just as the meal was over the Mexican looked out of the door and got up. “The boat is in,” he said to Sackett.
The leader arose quickly and motioned to the boys. “Come on, you boys, we’re moving. Abel, bring up in the rear.”
“Where are we going?” Jim asked.
“You’ll find out when you get on board,” retorted Sackett, as he marched them out of the shack.
“Evidently on a ship,” murmured Terry.
He was right. Off the shore a battered old schooner with two masts was tossing gently to and fro and near them on the beach a long boat was hauled up, with its crew of six waiting. The men touched their caps when Sackett approached.
“Get in the boat,” ordered Sackett, and the boys climbed in, taking their places in the stern seats. The outlaws followed, all but Manuel, who stood on the shore.
“Get the horses back to the hide-out,” Sackett said to the Mexican. “We’ll be back soon.” To the boat’s crew, who had taken their places at the oars he said, “Row us alongside.”
The crew pulled with a will and the boat moved from the shore, out onto the blue waters of the Pacific. After a row of a half mile they ranged alongside of the schooner, which had the nameGallowaypainted on the stern. Jim and Terry were ordered up the side ladder, where they dropped over the rail to the deck. Sackett and Abel, followed by the crew, speedily joined them.
“Put on sail,” ordered Sackett of the ship’s captain, as that officer approached. He turned to the boys, a grin of evil delight on his face. “You kids wanted to know where you are going, eh? Well, we’re taking you to Mexico, to keep you prisoners on a nice, deserted ranch until it suits us to let you go!”
For a moment after Sackett made his startling statement the two boys could only stand and stare at him. At last Jim spoke up.
“You are taking us to Mexico?” he cried.
“Exactly!” mocked the outlaw. “We can’t afford to have you two boys hanging around while we are looking for that treasure. So we are going to put you in cold storage for a time!”
“Mexico isn’t exactly cold storage,” murmured Terry. “Bum joker, this Sackett man!”
“You’ll find out it ain’t a joke,” said Sackett, as the sails were run into place. “It’ll be a long time before you boys get home again.”
“You’ll run into a lot of trouble over this,” Jim warned.
“Trouble is something I’m used to,” Sackett grinned. He turned to the villainous-looking captain of the schooner. “Captain Jake Ryan, keep your eyes on these boys and put them ashore where I tell you. I’m going ashore at Peso myself, so I make you responsible for them.”
“You needn’t be afraid they’ll get away from me,” the captain growled, looking them over keenly. “They’re nothing but kids!”
“Yes, but they’re pretty slippery ones,” warned Sackett. “Come down in the cabin with me.”
The two men, followed by Abel, left the boys and walked off. Jim looked at Terry and the latter shrugged his shoulders.
“Looks like we’re in for it now,” the red-headed boy remarked.
“I’m afraid we are,” Jim replied, in a low voice. “But we must get away. If we are carried to Mexico there is no telling when we will ever get home again.”
“True enough, but I don’t recommend starting anything with this crew,” said Terry.
The crew was indeed a rough looking outfit, apparently picked up in many ports and composed of rascals of every sort. They wore no uniforms and were seemingly expert in their trade, by which sign the boys took it that they had spent most of their life on board sailing vessels. They represented different nationalities and were a hardy and bold set of men, who would not stop at any kind of trade so long as it promised them gain of some sort.
“I’ll bet the police of many a town would like to see these fellows,” was Jim’s estimate of them.
The ship was rapidly leaving that portion of the coast where Jim and Terry had come aboard and was heading south. That meant that they intended to round off the tip of Lower California and run up the shore of Mexico, probably in one of the wildest portions of the tropical country. The boys looked once or twice over the side, but they knew it would be foolish to jump over, since they would be shot or overtaken by a boat before reaching the shore. There was nothing left for them to do, therefore, but to make the best of the situation.
They wandered over the deck of the schooner, forgetting in their interest that they were captives. Jim and Terry had done enough sailing to know something about sailing ships, and this ancient schooner interested them greatly. It had evidently been in active service for years, for it was battered and beaten by many storms and its decks were worn deeply in spots. The vast expanse of sails overhead, close hauled in the wind, drew their eyes in admiration, even though the sails were dirty and patched. The crew worked busily around the rigging, coiling ropes and stowing loose equipment, paying no attention to the boys, much as though taking prisoners was an every-day affair with them. The boys noted that two of the men worked apart from the main crew and looked to be men of a better stamp than the rank and file.
After a short run down the coast a tiny village appeared on the coast and once opposite it Sackett and the mate appeared on deck. The town was that of Peso and the captain of theGallowayordered the boat over the side. Sackett and Abel entered the boat and then looked up to where Jim and Terry leaned over the rail.
“Goodbye, boys,” mocked the bay pirate. “If we run across the other members of your party we’ll give them your regards, shall we?”
Jim only glowered, but Terry raised his slouched camping hat. “Why Mr. Sackett!” he exclaimed sweetly. “How very lovely of you! If I were only nearer to you I would kiss your sweet face for that kind thought!”
The crew of theGallowaybroke into broad grins and the captain chuckled. Sackett’s face grew red and he half rose from his seat in the long boat. But Abel pulled him down again.
“Quit fooling with those kids and let’s go,” he said, and Sackett sat down, after saying something fiery through his set teeth. The sailors pulled on their oars and the long boat shot through the water to the shore. When the two men had been set on shore the boat returned, and the schooner continued on its way.
Up to that time the air had been clear and the water untroubled, but a change gradually developed.
A slight haze sprang up over the water and the air became thicker. Little choppy waves began to form, and before long the schooner was beginning to rock with increasing force.
In the bow there was a commotion. A lookout in the crow’s nest had called something down, and the captain came hurrying on deck. The boys soon discovered a large black schooner to the west of them, some four miles off, and the sight of it appeared to alarm the crew. Acting under orders from the captain they crowded on more sail and began to run before the wind. It was a move that was not particularly wise under the increasing strength of the rising wind, and the two boys were puzzled.
“Terry,” said Jim, as he stood in the stern watching the schooner in the distance. “These fellows are running away from that ship!”
Terry looked with increasing interest and found that Jim was right. The schooner behind them was also crowding on sail, heeling over in the wind but running toward them in a direct line. The crew of theGallowaywas now fully on the alert and obeying the shouted orders of the skipper. The two men who had attracted the attention of the boys by their difference in looks compared to the rest of the motley crew, looked eagerly toward the oncoming schooner until they were literally driven to work by Captain Ryan.