After breakfast Captain McKay took an hour's ride alone over the surrounding country. In the meantime the boys pitched a more permanent camp as it was more than likely that they would remain there for another night, since McKay did not seem to want to leave the place just yet. What he had in mind the boys did not know.
Returning from his ride the captain appeared to be in much better spirits. His was a strange make-up. None wholly understood Captain Billy. Perhaps that was one of the reasons for his success in his perilous calling.
"Well, I promised to give you boys some lessons in revolver shooting," he said, tossing the reins to Tad who had come forward to take the pony. "Who can put a hole through my sombrero?" cried the Ranger sending his broad-brimmed Mexican hat spinning up into the air.
A flash and a bang followed almost on the instant. The Pony Rider Boys howled. The shot had been fired by Professor Zepplin and he had drilled a hole right through the Ranger's sombrero.
"Well, now, what do you think of that?" gasped Chunky, his eyes growing large. "I didn't think you could hit the side of a barn unless you were inside the barn."
The professor smiled grimly.
"I used to be counted the best revolver shot in my regiment when I was in the army. But I'm a little slow these days."
"Humph! I see you are," grunted Billy. "Lucky for me that you aren't quick or I wouldn't have had any hat left by this time. Anybody else want to try to put a hole through my hat?" he asked looking about.
"I was going to suggest that we throw up the professor's hat and let you take a shot at it," suggested Tad, coming up at this juncture.
"Here it goes," cried the professor sending the hat spinning away from them, with the edge of the brim almost toward them. The hat was spinning low and a very difficult mark to hit.
Tad thought the Ranger was going to take a shot at it, but instead of doing so, McKay nodded to Tad, with a merry twinkle in his eye.
Tad whipped out his revolver with a quickness that amazed the Ranger, and let go. His bullet snipped a piece from the edge of the rim. The force of the bullet turned the hat crown toward the shooter.
Bang, bang, bang! Tad bored three holes through the crown to the captain's amazement.
"There! I guess we are even with you now, Professor," laughed the boy."That old hat of yours won't hold water next time you go to the spring."
"I thought you folks didn't know how to shoot," wondered the Ranger. "I guess I'd better take some lessons from you instead of you from me. That certainly was mighty fine gun work. Where did you learn?"
"Since we have been out. I am not much of a shot with the revolver, though. I think I can do better with the rifle."
"How about the rest of you?" questioned the captain. "Do all of you shoot like that?"
"I suppose I am about the best shot in the outfit," answered Stacy pompously. "I can hit a penny—-"
"Yes, if the penny is glued to the muzzle," interrupted Ned.
"We'll see what you can do."
Stacy, after three shots, failed to hit the hat once. Walter and Ned each succeeded in placing a bullet through the professor's hat. Chunky insisted that his bullet went through one of the holes made by Tad Butler. He declared that he had never missed an easy shot like that in his life.
"Here, hit my hat," commanded Tad, tossing his sombrero into the air.The fat boy watched the soaring hat with longing eyes.
"Shoot, shoot, why don't you?" jeered the Pony Rider Boys.
"All right if you say so."
Stacy's pistol stuck in the holster and by the time he had freed the weapon the sombrero was only some seven or eight feet from the ground.
"Yeow!" howled the fat boy letting go two bullets with a speed that they had no idea he possessed.
"It's a hit!" cried the professor.
Tad ran forward and picked up the hat.
"Well, what do you think of that?" he wondered.
"Did he hit it?" called Walter.
"Of course he did."
"Oh, pooh! That hole was in your sombrero before he shot," scoffedNed Rector.
"You are wrong. There were no holes in the hat. Now there are two.Stacy sent two bullets through my hat instead of one."
"Hooray!" shouted the boys.
"I didn't think it of you, Brown," smiled the captain. "I take back all I have said against your character and your ability."
"Oh, don't mention it. That's nothing. I usually shoot my hat full of holes before breakfast every morning when I'm home. Anybody else want his hat transformed into a sieve?"
"I think you have done quite enough," returned the professor. "You have done fully as well as I could have done. Ahem!"
"Really remarkable shooting for tenderfeet," declared the captain.
"Tenderfeet? Well, I like that!" grumbled Stacy. "Why, I'm a lion fighter, I am!"
"And a snake man as well," grinned the Ranger.
"Yes. I'm no tenderfoot. Did I run away when the shooting was going on last night? I guess not. I——-"
"No, he was too scared to run," snorted Rector.
Stacy regarded Ned solemnly.
"Ned Rector, I don't usually acknowledge you to be right in matters like this, but I'm going to admit before the whole company that you've told the truth for once in your—-"
"I always tell the truth," broke in Ned.
"—-life," finished the fat boy. "I was, as our distinguished fellow—-tenderfoot says, scared stiff. But if the truth were known, I'll wager that he was hiding behind a rock when that same shooting was going on."
Rector flushed a rosy red, which brought a howl from the boys. It was plain that Chunky had touched him in a tender spot.
"Come now, you boys, if you want to try some more," called the Ranger.
"What now?" asked Tad.
"I want to see how you are on the draw—-quick." The captain trimmed a piece of paper down to about the size of a silver dollar. This he pinned to a tree, then measuring off twenty paces, faced the mark, spun about on his toes, making two complete whirls and drove a bullet right into the center of the target, having drawn his revolver as he turned. It was a splendid piece of shooting.
The professor missed. He did not even hit the tree. Tad took a piece out of the edge of the target the first time. The second he placed a bullet just inside the outer edge, which McKay pronounced to be excellent shooting. That was high praise from a man like Billy McKay.
Ned did not know whether he wanted to try that shot or not. McKay explained how to draw quickly and at what point of the whirl to draw, but try as he would Rector could not hit the mark. Once he chipped a piece of bark from the tree, which brought a yell from the boys.
"The trouble with you lads is that you grip your guns too tightly. Take a light hold on the butt of your revolver. Toy with it. It's the fellow with the feather-weight touch that does the best work with the revolver. He is the man to look out for."
"That's the way I always shoot," declared Chunky pompously. "If there's one shot that I can make better than another it's that one you fellows have been trying. Why, I could pink that target with my eyes shut."
"Try it. See what you can do. Perhaps you may beat us all, who knows?" grinned McKay.
"I don't say that I can beatyou, but I can shoot as well as these amateurs who have been trying it. I can—-"
"Look here, are you going to make that shot, Chunky?" demanded Rector.
"Yes. Got any objections?" asked Chunky turning to Rector with great deliberation.
"Not the least, if you'd kindly hold your fire till I can get behind a rock or a thick tree."
"Yes, that's the place for you, I reckon. All ready, Mr. McKay?"
"It's up to you," smiled the Ranger. "Does it make any particular difference to you which way I whirl?" asked the fat boy.
"Not in the least. You may stand on your head and whirl if it will suit you better."
"For goodness' sake, do something," begged Tad. "You've taken enough time already to shoot the tree clean off the map."
"Who's doing this shooting, you or I?" asked Chunky.
Tad sat down helplessly. Stacy was not to be hurried. The more one urged him, the slower did he become.
"Look out, I'm going to shoot now. Everybody lie low!"
Stacy spun himself around like a top. He had whirled three times when the Ranger shouted to him.
"Shoot before you get so dizzy you can't see!"
Bang!
"Stop it—-"
Bang!
"Stop it, you idiot!"
McKay struck the fat boy's revolver just in time to prevent getting a bullet through his own body. Over yonder the professor lay flat on the ground with a frightened look on his face, shouting at the top of his voice.
"Hold him! Hold him! He'll have us all riddled!"
"Wha—-what's the matter?" demanded Stacy looking around innocently.
"Matter? See what you have done."
"Di—-did I wing the professor?" questioned the fat boy innocently.
"Did you wing him!" jeered Tad Butler.
"Come here, young man. But leave that pistol behind you," commanded Professor Zepplin. "I think we will equip you with a small bow and a blunt arrow after this. Even. then I fear our eyes will be in danger. Do you see what you did?"
One of Stacy's bullets had bored a hole through the crown of the professor's sombrero. The other had plowed a neat furrow through Professor Zepplin's grizzled whiskers, close to the chin.
"Ho, ho, ho! Haw, haw, haw!" roared the fat boy with head thrown back as far as it would go without dislocating his neck.
The professor gave Stacy a shaking that the fat boy did not forget at once, the others shouting their approval. The fat boy grinned after his punishment.
"I'm a regular William Tell, eh?" he asked looking about. It was still a good joke to him. Even the professor permitted a grim smile to show itself at the base of his whiskers.
"You came near killing Professor Zepplin," answered the Ranger.
"That would have been too bad," replied Stacy almost anxiously. "I shouldn't have had anybody to tease then. Do I try that shot again?"
"You do not!" was the firm reply from McKay.
"I guess I knew what I was about when I hid behind that rock," laughedRector.
"According to Chunky, you knew what you were about when you got behind the rock during the shooting yesterday," cut in Tad.
"Come, come, boys, if you are going to shoot any more you'd better get busy. I shall soon have to leave you. Who shoots next?" demanded the captain.
"I do," announced Stacy.
"You shoot no more in this camp, young man," insisted the professor. "It's all right for those who know how, but you endanger our lives with your irresponsible actions."
"All right, Butler, I will now throw my hat up from behind you.You will turn and shoot at it when I give the word," said the captain.
The first shot Tad missed the hat by some three or four rods. How the boys did shout and jeer at him!
"I did better than you. I trimmed the professor's whiskers," declaredChunky.
Tad nodded to McKay that he was ready for another shot.
"Don't shoot this time until you see the hat. Shoot a little under rather than over it. The natural tendency is always to overshoot, whatever one is shooting at."
Bang!
The hat in the air jumped as if it had received a sudden blow as Tad whirled and let go.
"You've graduated. Next!"
Rector missed five shots. Walter fanned the rim, then they called a halt in the practice.
"Altogether I am well satisfied with your shooting, boys. Even Brown accomplished something," said McKay.
Stacy grinned broadly.
"I—-I could hit a German, couldn't I?" he stammered.
"Yes, I think you could," laughed Billy.
"Especially if you were to turn your back to him before shooting," added Tad.
"Professor," said McKay, "I must go away for part of the day. I do not believe your party will have any difficulty. The bandits are no longer here. I should not be at all surprised if my men were to round them up, as they are on the track of the enemy at this very moment. If you want to move, you may do so, but I would suggest that you make this your camp for the night"
"I am quite well satisfied here. The boys will no doubt want to go out exploring. I am somewhat interested in the geological formation of the canyon at this point, so we shall all be well occupied during the remainder of the day. You plan to return here to-night?"
"I think so."
"We will see if we can't pick up the trail of the enemy," laughed Tad.
"Do so by all means. Who knows but that you may discover something worth while? I am sure you have an idea in your mind," answered McKay, giving Butler a shrewd glance.
"I will confess that I have, sir."
The Ranger captain did not say where he was going. But shortly after that he rode out of camp and was seen no more until late that evening. After the departure of McKay the professor cleared his throat and stroked his damaged whiskers.
"I trust you young men will try to keep out of trouble to-day. I am sorry to say that you are becoming rather too venturesome. Be good enough to keep in mind that we are in what appears to be a hostile country."
"It strikes me that Chunky is more hostile, more to be feared, than anything else about here," chuckled Tad.
"I agree with you, and for that reason I am going to place Stacy under your charge for the day, Tad."
"Oh, what a responsibility!" mocked Butler.
"I'm glad it isn't up to me," declared Ned.
"You will look after Walter."
"I don't need any looking after," protested Perkins.
"That's why he's put you in charge of Ned," scoffed Stacy.
"Shake hands. We will take a fresh start, Chunky," said Ned, extending a friendly hand.
Chunky regarded Ned suspiciously. He wondered what Rector had in mind to induce him to become so friendly all at once. As it chanced Ned felt that perhaps he had been rather too hard on the fat boy. But the fat boy had never thought of it in that light. Each was supposed to take the jokes played on him and without losing his temper. As a rule each one did, though Chunky seemed to get more than his share of such abuse. Perhaps he brought his troubles on himself.
"Well, if I am going to have charge of you, Stacy, I think I'll take you out in the woods where you can't do any damage to any one but myself. Bring your gun and we'll go shooting."
"My rifle?"
"No. Your pistol."
"That suits me. I am too delicate to tote a rifle around on my shoulder all day."
"Be back early, and do not go far away," ordered the professor.
"Shoot off a rifle if you want us before we get back," suggested Tad.
"Which way are you going?" asked Ned.
"South. Which way do you go?"
"I guess we will go west if you are going south. I want to get a good distance away if you fellows are going to shoot at a mark."
"Come on, Stacy."
The fat boy and his companion strolled off. They were going to take their ponies, but the professor had decided against this, fearing that the boys would stray too far from camp were they to ride. Being on foot he felt reasonably certain that they would not get far away, knowing how averse they were to walking, which is usually the case with those used to riding a horse. A cowboy will mount his pony if he wants to go across the street, just the same as a fire chief will get into his buggy if he goes to a fire on the same block.
Stacy and Tad engaged in a friendly conversation on the way out. Tad was giving his companion some advice. They were talking seriously and for a wonder Stacy was giving serious consideration to what Butler was saying.
They had been going along aimlessly for nearly an hour, halting now and then to sit down on a rock or a log, when Stacy paused, looking about him curiously.
"Isn't this the place where we were shot at last night?"
"Yes, this is the place, I guess," answered Tad, looking about him inquiringly. "Over yonder is where we were stationed. Let's go over and look about a little."
Stacy was willing, so they strolled over. Tad sat down, a thoughtful look on his face, taking a survey, forming a mental picture of the scene as it had appeared during the bloodless battle with the border bandits.
"According to my idea those fellows must have fallen into a hole in the ground about where that tree is down," declared Stacy wisely.
"That is my idea too," answered Tad. "I can't understand how they could have slipped by us as easily as they did."
"Maybe they didn't."
"They must have done so. There is no hole in the ground over there, as you can see for yourself. Even if there were, what good would it have done the men? Let's go over and see if we can pick up a trail of some sort."
"I'm with you. Where shall we begin?"
"You go to the left and I'll go to the right. We will meet somewhere near the fallen tree unless we get side-tracked."
The tree referred to was a huge one. It lay at the base of a great pile of rocks, from which it evidently had slipped. In falling it had carried its roots with it. These roots, massed with dirt and stone, stood up in the air all of fifteen feet. The top of the tree was a hundred feet further out. It must have been a magnificent tree when it stood towering from the top of the rocks there and no doubt was a landmark for all that part of the Guadalupe Range. The trunk at the top stood free of the ground several feet, the trunk nearer the roots resting on an almost knife-like edge of rock that had cut deeply into the trunk when the tree fell.
Stacy gazed at the tree and decided that it would make an excellent thing to climb. He stepped up on the trunk at the roots, walking out toward the top.
"Come on up. The walking's great, Tad," he cried.
"I'll be there pretty soon."
After looking about for several minutes Butler followed his companion. But Tad paused before climbing up. He eyed that towering mass of roots, dirt and stones with interest.
"See anything funny?" called Stacy.
"No, nothing particularly funny. I do see the print of a horseshoe here on the rocks where some dirt has stuck to the shoe and been left on the stone. It isn't any of our stock as nearly as I can determine. I guess it must have been some of those fellows last night. They evidently were shooting from behind the tree here."
"They weren't shooting from behind much of anything, as well as I could judge," answered the fat boy.
Tad climbed up and made his way slowly along the tree trunk. As he neared his companion, he felt the tree settle a little. This at the moment did not make any particular impression on the Pony Rider Boy. Their combined weight might cause the outer end to give a little. Then all at once a howl from Chunky caused Tad to grasp a branch to save himself.
The tree top was settling slowly.
"Look, look!" cried the fat boy.
Tad turned, amazement growing on his face. The roots of the tree had slowly risen several feet into the air, disclosing a hole in the rocks.
Chunky was so excited that he fell off before Tad could say a word. The tree settled back, closing the hole in the rocks.
The top of the tree sprang up with such force, when relieved of the weight of the fat boy, that Tad Butler lost his hold and was catapulted to the ground, which he struck with a force that made his bones ache.
The two Pony Rider Boys sat up rubbing themselves and looking into each others' faces.
"Well, what do you think of that?" jeered Stacy Brown.
"I think we got a fine tumble," replied Tad, grinning.
"And I think something else, too."
"Yes, we've made a discovery!"
"A great discovery," breathed Stacy tensely.
"I think so, but that remains to be seen. Who would have thought it?But get away from here! We may have disturbed some one."
The lads quickly scrambled up and, skulking into the bushes, crouched down, watching the roots of the tree, almost expecting them to rise into the air again. Nothing of the sort happened. The birds were singing in the trees, the sun was shining brightly, the heat was intense.
"I'm going to investigate," declared Tad.
"Maybe we've discovered another gold mine, or perhaps a German dugout," suggested Chunky.
"Perhaps, but not in the way you think."
"How do you mean?"
"Wait until we investigate. There may be more to this than either of us think. I wonder if we can weight that tree down so the roots will stay up in the air?"
"I saw some rocks there near the top. Perhaps we can make them stay on so the top will be held down."
"You get up on the tree again and I'll pass the rocks up to you. Place them so they won't slide off. I don't want to get crushed by them falling on me."
"Neither do I want to get thrown off again. I'm black and blue all over, right this minute."
"I think I must be by the feel of my skin. Hurry!"
Stacy ran back to the roots, once more clambering to the trunk, along which he ran clear to the outer end. Tad was ready with a heavy, flat rock which he carefully raised by main strength.
"Now, don't you dare let that drop on me or I'll be mashed flat,Stacy Brown."
"I—-I won't let it d-d-rop un—-unless I—-I fall off."
The rock nearly got away from the fat boy. Butler leaped back out of the way, but Stacy recovered himself in time and after some effort succeeded in placing the rock in the limbs of the tree.
"Fits as if it had been here before," declared Chunky.
"Perhaps it has. We shall see. Are you ready?"
"Yep."
"Here's another."
By the time the third stone had been put in place the top of the tree began to settle. The fourth rock brought the tree down to the ground, exposing the opening in the rocks once more.
"Hurrah!"
"Keep still. Don't move till I get enough up there to equalize your weight. Then you may come down."
The remaining stones were quickly laid in place. Tad motioned for Chunky to descend. The fat boy leaped down. The tree top remained on the ground leaving a wide opening in the rocks.
"Now, Chunky, keep your nerve. You may need it."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going in there. I think perhaps it might be the wiser plan for you to remain out here and keep watch."
"No, sir, I guess not! I've helped discover that hole and I'm going to reap my reward by exploring the inside."
"Come along then. It is taking long chances, but I guess the tree is safe unless some one should come along and trip the stones. Then we would be in a fine fix, shouldn't we?"
"I reckon we would. We wouldn't be getting out of that hole, right smart, should we, Tad?"
"I guess not. We should be buried alive."
"Still, there may be some other opening to the place. We will take a chance. Got your matches?"
"Yes."
"Then you light a match when we get inside. I'll have my revolver ready in case there is anything in there."
Taking a final glance about, Tad moved toward the opening in the rocks with brisk step. Chunky was trotting along behind him, the fat boy full of importance over the discovery they had made. At the opening they paused, glancing apprehensively at the great roots towering above them. Were the butt of that giant tree to settle down now, it would crush them.
The boys stepped inside. They could see but a few feet ahead of them, but saw that they were in a huge crevice in the rocks, a sort of cave formed by the splitting apart of the rocks themselves, perhaps from some long past earthquake disturbance.
"Light a match, Stacy."
The fat boy did so.
"There have been horses in here," announced Tad.
"Yes, I guess there have, but there aren't any here now."
"Fortunately for us."
The air was cool, though a little damp in the cave. To this the boys gave no heed. They had more important matters on hand than observing the atmosphere of the place. The cave they found was much larger than they had had any idea of. In places the roof was all of ten feet high. But as they penetrated further in, moving cautiously, lighting the way with every step, the walls sloped toward the back, approaching nearer to the floor.
Except for the light from the matches, the boys were in darkness, so that they were not able to observe that the opening to the cave had closed. A strong breeze, swaying the upper limbs of the tree, had dislodged the stones and allowed the roots to slip quietly into place again. The boys, without knowing it, were prisoners.
"You aren't throwing your matches on the floor, are you?" demandedTad turning sharply.
"Yes, why not?"
"Show me a light here," commanded Tad going down on his knees and gathering up all the burnt matches he could find. "That is a fine trail you are leaving. Why, were any one to come in here, he would discover instantly that strangers had been here."
"I—-I never thought of that," stammered Chunky.
"We must think of everything. Our very lives may depend on our doing so."
"Wha—-what do you mean, Tad?"
"Don't you understand yet?"
"I—-I guess I begin to. Some—-somebody's been here."
"Yes. It is my opinion that the very men Captain McKay is looking for have been here. Come, we must be quick! We are likely to be interrupted at any time, though I hardly think any of them would come here in the daytime."
The boys were obliged to stoop in order to continue their explorations further. After creeping under the low-hanging rock they found that they were able to stand erect once more. Then they discovered something else. There were bales piled on top of one another, packs securely tied lying about, guns, rugs, in fact a miscellaneous assortment of goods which the boys believed to be of great value. In one corner stood a chest securely padlocked. It was a rough chest, bound with iron bands that looked as if they might have been used on cotton bales.
"Well, we have made a discovery, Stacy Brown!" breathed Tad.
"We have," agreed the fat boy, his eyes growing large with wonder."What do you suppose is in that chest?"
"I don't know."
"Let's open it," suggested Stacy eagerly.
Tad shook his head.
"In the first place we have no business to do anything of the sort. In the second place I don't want to stay here much longer. We had better be getting back to camp as quickly as we can. Of course we can't do anything until Captain McKay returns, but the more quickly we get away from here the better it will be for us."
"I—-I'm scared. Aren't you?" stammered the fat boy apprehensively.
"No, I am not scared, but I realize that we are in danger every minute we stay here. Those men wouldn't trifle with us, were they to catch us. Do you know what they would do to us if they caught us here, Chunky?"
"Nu—-nu—-no."
"They would fill us full of lead, that's what they would do. Light another match while I look into this niche. Then we will be making tracks for the outside."
Tad was back by Stacy's side a moment later. He motioned that they were to go back. The boys started briskly for the opening. The instant they had crawled out into the outer chamber they realized that all was not as it should be. At first they did not understand what had occurred.
Tad was the first to make the discovery of what had occurred.
"We're caught!" he cried.
"H—-ho—-how?"
"The tree has closed the opening to the cave. Now we are in a nice pickle."
Stacy was speechless. He held a burning match in his hand until the match burned up to his finger, whereat Chunky dropped the match with an exclamation.
"I—-I'll tell you what let's do. Let's dig through the roots. We can do it. Come on."
Tad laid a restraining hand on the fat boy's arm.
"We won't do that just yet. This may have been an accident. Those stones may have slipped off. I am inclined to think that is what has happened. If so, we don't want to leave any clues—-"
"I'd rather leave clues than to leave my dead body in here," wailedChunky.
"Buck up! Don't show a yellow streak, Chunky!" commanded Tad sharply.
"I'm not yellow. But I know enough to know when I've got enough. I know I've got enough of this bandit-chasing business. I ought to have known better than to go out with you. They think I can't keep out of trouble. I can keep out of trouble all right if other folks don't lead me into it. Now see what a fix you've got me into, Tad Butler!"
"It strikes me that I am in the same fix. But we're going to get out of it, Stacy—-"
"Yes, but how?"
"I don't know, but I'll find a way."
"Why, we'll starve to death in here. They'll find our bones here a few years from now and they'll wonder—-I wish I had something to eat."
"Tighten your belt. Remember, whatever occurs, you are to leave your revolver in its holster. Don't you dare to draw it unless I tell you to. One little slip might be the death of us. For once in your life be prudent."
"I'll be prudent, but I wish I had a sandwich. Have you looked to see if there's anything to eat in this hole?"
"No, I have something of more importance than food to think about at present."
Tad struck a match, taking a long, careful look about the outer chamber of the cave. He saw nothing to encourage him. Rocks everywhere, with here and there a discolored spot where tiny streams had trickled through, perhaps during a heavy rainstorm.
Tad was thinking with all his might, trying to devise some plan by which they might protect themselves in case they were surprised by the return of the bandits, which he did not think would occur before night, even if then. He reasoned that the bandits were far away else the Rangers would not have gone on a long journey in search of them. That meant that the bandits would not be likely to return until matters had quieted down and the Rangers had left the locality.
"I am afraid we are in here for a long stay, old chap," Butler said finally.
"Another case of being buried alive, eh?" questioned Stacy. "I told you so. I always am right. But I wasn't when I trusted myself to you. You can get into more trouble, and faster than—-"
"At least I don't try to shave the professor with my revolver," retortedTad sharply. "Hark! What was that?"
"I—-I didn't hear anything."
"Sh-h-h!" Tad gripped the arm of his companion. Stacy repressed an "ouch" with some difficulty. The two lads stood listening.
Particles of dirt were rattling from the roots of the fallen tree, sounding like hailstones as they fell to the rocks in the cave. Then a faint ray of light appeared under the bottom of the mass of roots.
"Somebody is coming," whispered Tad. "Stand perfectly still until I tell you to move."
"They can't see us at once. Don't make a sound on your life."
"Wha—-what are you going to do?" whispered Stacy, his teeth chattering audibly.
"Duck, if I get half a chance. But I don't think I shall. There it goes!"
The great mass of roots rose clear of the ground, exposing the full height of the opening, and the eyes of the two Pony Rider Boys grew large at what they beheld there in the framed circle of light,
As root mass swung upward, a man with a vicious slap on the animal's thigh, sent a horse bounding in. He followed the horse. Then after him came five other men, crowding in with every appearance of haste. Not a word had been spoken up to this time.
"Now run for your life!" whispered Tad in the ear of his companion. "No, this way. Stoop low. I don't want to get pinned in that other place."
Tad had been using his eyes while glancing about the compartment, and using them to good purpose. He had espied a heap of blankets, either discarded ones or some that had been used for the ponies. He was inclined to the former opinion. He was quite sure that blankets would not be used for the animals at this time of the year. At any rate there was now no time for reflection. It was a time for quick action.
Leading Chunky to the heap, which lay under a projecting ledge of rock some four feet from the floor, Tad forced his companion over behind the pile, then himself crawled in, puffing the blankets over them.
Stacy's teeth were still chattering.
"Stop it!" commanded Tad, giving the fat boy a violent pinch.
This time Chunky did say "ouch!" But before the word was out of his mouth Tad had clapped a blanket over the offending mouth.
"Do you want to be killed?"
"N—-n—-no."
"Then keep still!"
"Wha—-what are they doing?"
"That is what I want to find out if you will lie quiet and not give me any further trouble. They are staking their horses. This must be the stable. The men, as I thought, will go back further. I hope we can hear what they say."
"I don't care what they say. I want to get out of here."
"You never will if you don't muzzle yourself. Now do try to keep quiet while I listen."
Tad raised his head cautiously, but quickly drew it back. What he had seen was the face of the man who had passed himself off as captain of the Rangers when visiting the camp of the Pony Rider Boys a few days before that. This was Willie Jones, the man for whom every Ranger in the state was searching at that moment. And then—-Tad shivered in spite of himself when he made the discovery—-stepping up to the leader to ask him a question was Dunk Tucker, the fellow whom Tad had captured. Dunk had regained his freedom and had joined his band. His presence here indicated that it was not a good place for the Pony Rider Boys. Tad hoped his own fellows might keep close to their camp. He wondered if the Rangers would be able to trace the bandits to their lair, or if the former even knew the outlaws had returned to that locality again. The words of Tucker answered his question.
"Well, we outrode them, Cap," said Tucker.
"Yes, but if you hadn't made a fool of yourself and tried a pot shot on McKay they wouldn't have known we were anywhere about. That was a fool play on your part, Dunk. Your temper will be the death of you. We'll be lucky if it isn't the death of the whole outfit. I don't want any more of it. If you can't control yourself better, the word will go out that you aren't safe. You know what that means?"
Dunk grinned maliciously.
"I reckon I do. How long we going to stay in here this time?"
"I'll let you know when I am ready to go."
"But ain't you going to clean out that camp?"
"If you mean the boys, I am not. I am looking for bigger game just now. When we get through you can settle your little grudge if you want to. I reckon you'll get your fingers burnt, the same way you did before, if you try it. Those boys are pretty slick."
Tucker's face grew black. No need to tell Tad of what the outlaw was thinking at that moment. He was thinking of the time when the boys had made him a prisoner and how they had been responsible for his having been taken to El Paso and locked up. There was murder in the heart of Dunk Tucker at that moment, as Tad Butler well knew.
The men had lighted candles and stuck them in crevices in the rocks, so that the chamber was fairly well lighted. The horses were white with foam, showing that they had been ridden hard. The watching boy understood. The bandits had been hard pressed by the Rangers.
Jones walked away, leaving Tucker standing there nursing his deadly rage. After a time Dunk followed into the other chamber, where the men fell to discussing their escape in tones plainly audible to the boys hidden under the blankets. From the conversation Tad drew that the men had been on a raid and that they had been forced to throw away much of their plunder because of having been so hard pressed by the pursuing Rangers. Still, three small packs had been unloaded from the ponies in the cave and carried to the inner chamber. The outlaws were not in good humor. Their leader was the only one whose face reflected a smile. Willie could smile even when facing a gun. That smile had upset more than one man's aim and saved Willie's life. Jones fully realized the value of his disconcerting smile.
Tad's reflections were interrupted by the voice of one of the outlaws.
"They're here," said the voice. "I'd like to take a pot at them."
"It'll be your last if you try it," threatened Jones. "This is the only safe retreat we've got. We don't propose to give it away by any, such fool play as shooting at a Ranger from it, much as we'd like to get rid of some of those fellows. They're crowding us pretty close. And right here, I've got a proposition to make. By the way, Gregg, what are they doing?"
"Looking for trails."
The outlaw captain smiled grimly.
"Let 'em look. Precious little trail they'll find, and precious little good it'll do them if they do find it."
"Joe said those stones weren't where he'd left them."
"That's all right. Probably some of those boys have been fooling around here. They're a nosey crowd. But there's no chance that they have discovered anything yet. Give them time and they may. Once we break up the Ranger camp the boys will take French leave mighty quick. It will be too warm for them here. As I was about to say, I have a proposition to make to you. Until things quiet down a little it is my suggestion that we get across the Rio Grande and go into retreat there in our old joint. We've got a lot of valuable stuff here that we can't get out at present and we'll have to leave it here. The Rangers are watching this locality altogether too closely for comfort so far as we are concerned. Withem is nosing around El Paso as you know, lying low for some folks that we know of there. No use to take chances when we don't have to. If you're all agreed we'll just slope to the other side of the river and lie low for a month. What's your idea?"
"I'm agreed, if you'll give me a chance to get even with that gang of boys first," spoke up Tucker.
"You mean that you want to stay here after we've gone?" smiled CaptainWillie.
"I reckoned I'd like to until I'd done what I told you."
"Well, I reckon you won't do anything of the sort. When we go out of here, none of us comes back till the whole crowd returns. Is that clear, Dunk?"
The outlaw growled an unintelligible reply.
"The Rangers have drawn off, Captain," called the lookout.
"Which way?"
"Toward the camp."
"They're going to stay there all night," decided the leader. "Well, we'll watch our chance and perhaps we'll be able to get away some time late in the night. Are you all agreed on getting across the river if we can make it?"
The men said they were.
"Then that's settled. Get out the grub. We'll feed up while we've got the chance."
No fire was built. The men munched their food cold. Little was said among them.
And now Tad began to ponder over certain other phases of his situation. How were these outlaws going to get out? There surely must be some way of opening the way to the outside. Still, the boy did not see how they could move the tree from the inside. If they could do it he could. He decided, however, that it would not be safe to trust to his finding the secret of the opening. Far better would it be to bolt at the first opportunity.
Stacy had kept unusually quiet, though his eyes had grown large when he heard the conversation of the men. At least there was a peep-hole through which the lookout was keeping watch. It occurred to Chunky that he could yell after the men left, and thus attract the attention of his own fellows. Tad had a different idea in mind, though he had not yet fully formulated his plans along this line.
The outlaws having finished their lunch, some rolled up in their blankets and went to sleep undisturbed by the fact that a band of Rangers was encamped within a short quarter of a mile of them.
As for the boys who were in such a tight place, they hardly dared move for fear of frightening the horses and thus exciting the suspicions of the outlaws further down the underground passage. When the boys did change their positions it was done as cautiously as they knew how. One Pony near them evidently scented them, for it grew restless and kept snorting, but that was all.
The hours dragged on wearily. The boys did not know whether it were night or day. Finally the lookout came down to where Jones was pacing steadily back and forth.
"Well?"
"Something going on over there," answered the lookout, jerking his head toward the opening.
"What do you think?"
"I don't know. They're running around out there with torches."
"Where are they?"
"On the other side of the clearing."
"Got their rifles with them?"
"No."
"McKay there?"
"The whole crowd's there."
"They've missed us," whispered Chunky. "They're looking for us."
"Sh—-h—-h—-h," warned Tad softly. Jones pondered for a moment, then he turned to the lookout sharply.
"Wake up the men," he said.
"I reckon something is going to be did," whispered the irrepressibleChunky. Something was.
The waking of the men was a matter of seconds merely. A touch on the shoulder and the man touched was on his feet as if propelled by springs, hand instinctively going to the revolver dangling from his belt.
Tad, now keenly alive to what was going on, had partially thrown the blankets off, Chunky having done the same.
"Don't stir. I'll tell you when it is time to move," warned Tad.
"Men, I've changed my mind," announced the leader. "Are you ready for a fight?"
"Sure we are if it's Rangers you want us to fight," answered a voice.
"Yes, it's the same old crowd, and a bunch of youngsters thrown in. I don't know what the trouble is, but they're racing around out there with torches—-"
"Mebby they've found the trail," suggested one.
"No, I reckon some of the youngsters have strayed away and got lost.All the better for us. The Rangers won't be looking for us."
"They have left their rifles in the camp. They've got their revolvers with them, of course. Take your rifles. Put out all the lights, then while the watch is being kept we'll step out and give them a volley. Be careful to get to one side of the opening so we don't draw their attention too sharply to the opening. That might leave some marks and lead them to investigate when day comes. We'll be a long way from here by that time, but I hope we'll leave a few dead Rangers behind us."
Dunk Tucker was grinning broadly. This was the opportunity for which he had longed.
"Sneak out quietly. Take a good aim. Give them a rattler of a volley. Every man pick his mark. You can't miss. I'll look for McKay. But don't all aim at the same mark or you won't do much damage."
Tad could not repress a shudder. He realized the desperateness ofWillie Jones' character fully now. A man who could plan such acold-blooded crime could have no heart. And the worst of it was thatTad saw no way to prevent the crime.
"How about it up there?"
"They're over in the bush now."
"I want them when they are just outside the bush. If their backs are turned toward us, all the better. We'll give them a hot dose that will give them something to think about," jeered Willie.
"Well, isn't he the cold-blooded fish?" whispered Chunky. "I'd like to take a pot shot at him right where he stands."
"So should I," answered Tad. "But I couldn't do it, bad as he is."
"No, I guess it wouldn't be exactly prudent," returned the fat boy.
"That wasn't what I meant. Prudence hasn't anything to do with it.It would be cold-blooded."
"Ready! Work the lever," commanded the captain as the voice of the lookout called down the one word "Right!"
"Get ready," whispered Tad. "I'm going to bolt. Don't make a sound. We may lose our lives, but I'm going to save the others. If I shoot, drop in your tracks, but be careful not to drop in the opening. Now think as you never thought before!"
"Wha—-what are you going to do?" stammered the fat boy.
"Watch me. I can't explain it to you now. There goes the tree."
The operation of the huge bulk was very simple. One of the men procured a long pole from a crevice in the rock. This he thrust down under the roots of the tree, adjusted it and then began working the pole as one would a pump handle. The tree began to rise at once. Tad saw that the outlaw was working a pneumatic jack, on which he figured a piece of timber had been placed so as not to crumble the dirt from the roots when the bulk was raised by the jack. From the outside the bandits no doubt used the same method that the Pony Rider Boys had used to gain an entrance.
"Keep clear of the opening and don't shoot until we're all ready.One volley will be enough, then back and trip the jack. All ready!"
The men began creeping out, Willie Jones in the lead.
"Now!" whispered Tad. "Follow me! Look out for squalls! Things will happen rapidly when they begin."
The boys crept out, following the outlaws as closely as they dared.Once outside the bandits quickly skulked off to one side or the other.
"Get down quick!" whispered Tad.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
Tad Butler fired three shots from his revolver, then threw himself on the ground. Almost with the first shot he heard the voice of the Ranger captain. McKay, ever on the alert, was not caught napping.
"Throw torches away! Down!" he roared.
A thundering volley crashed from the rifles of the outlaws, answered by a rattling fire from the revolvers of the Rangers. Tad heard an outlaw utter an exclamation of pain and knew that one at least of the bad men had been raked by a bullet.
"Back!" came the command from the leader of the bandits. The word was not spoken loud enough to be heard far away, but every man there heard it, and back they rushed into the cave. A shower of dirt fell over the two Pony Rider Boys, who were by this time crawling on all fours to get away from the tree that they knew would come down with a bump.
It did. The Rangers were still shooting. Tad and Stacy were in a dangerous position. The Rangers were firing right over them. The instant the boys heard the base of the tree fall into place, Tad uttered the owl call.
"Don't shoot, don't shoot!" howled Chunky.
"It's the boys! Stand fast. Lie low!" commanded the Ranger captain."Something is going on here that we don't know about."
A moment later Tad and Chunky came staggering into the arms of their friends.
"Surround the base of the tree. They're in the cave," cried Tad.
"Wait, wait!" commanded the Ranger.
In the cave the outlaws were beginning to think. Tad's shots had been laid to the carelessness of one of the men. Each one denied that he had fired them.
"That was a signal. Somebody here is a traitor!" cried the leader.
Out there in front of the cave Tad was rapidly whispering to the Ranger captain what had occurred. He told him the bandits were all in the cave and that he believed the only exit was there behind the roots of the big tree.
"Boys, we've got 'em!" cried Billy. "We've got 'em in a trap. Hurrah! Tad, you've saved the lives of some of us. That was as brave a thing as ever a Ranger did and I'll tell you what I think about it after we have smoked those ruffians out."
The smoking-out process was a matter of some time. At the captain's direction, a row of fires was built in front of the cave so that none of the outlaws could escape. On each side of the row of bonfires McKay placed flanking parties who stood with rifles ready to train on the opening should the bandits seek to escape.
All that night and the following day did the Rangers keep silent watch over the cave. The second night fires were built up as before, and part of the force stood watch while the others slept on the ground with rifles for pillows.
It was not until about noon of the third day that any sign of life was observed in the cave. Willie Jones hailed the captain, declaring that he was ready to surrender. Terms were quickly made. The men were to walk out singly, leaving their arms in the cave. There was no need to caution Willie Jones as to what would follow the least sign of treachery. He knew without being told. Grim Rangers were standing on one side so that they should have a clear shooting space in front of them. Billy McKay stood directly facing the opening, as if for the purpose of tempting one of those desperate men in there to take a shot at him. None had the pluck to try it.
Jones was the first one out. He was manacled and searched. One by one the bandits emerged until every man was a prisoner.
That afternoon all were on their way to El Paso. It would be many years before they would again terrorize the Rio Grande border if at all, for there were many charges against them. Among the charges preferred against the bandits was that of aiding the Germans by stirring up trouble on the border. Not a man confessed, but while the government was unable to prove this particular charge, it was positive that in the arrest of this desperate gang a nest of dangerous traitors had been broken up.
The entire credit for the capture was given to the two Pony Rider Boys, Tad Butler and Stacy Brown. The Pony Rider Boys party accompanied the Rangers to El Paso, whence, later on, they continued their journey down the Rio Grande. The boys were praised by every one for their bravery, and especially were Tad and Stacy, who had so bravely risked their own lives to save the lives of their young companions and the Rangers.
A big reward was earned by the Rangers, but at Captain McKay's suggestion, a thousand dollars was turned over to Professor Zepplin to be divided between Tad and Chunky later on. The professor's protests availed him nothing. McKay said the professor might throw the money in the gutter if he didn't want it, so the professor sent the thousand dollars to the father of Walter Perkins. That gentleman deposited it to the credit of the two plucky young lads, though it was some time ere they knew the existence of this special fund, all their own.
It was the last night in camp before ending their wonderful outing, and every one was solemn-eyed and thoughtful. Their playspell was at an end and they were sad. Tad and Ned were speaking of the war, each confiding his desire to the other, to get into the fight, and expressing his intention of doing so soon.
"Professor," called Tad. "We know of course how you feel on the subject, but this is a good time for us all to make our confessions, on this the last night of our season's outing, and know where we stand on the war."
"We are all patriots here," interjected Walter Perkins.
"All but one and he's a German," spoke up Stacy Brown. "I refer to that noble man, Professor Zepplin, first cousin to the airship known as a Zeppelin—-"
Professor Zepplin's whiskers fairly bristled.
"Young man, that will do!" he thundered. "I am an American citizen, and you have no right to question my loy——-"
"There, there, Professor, don't you know Chunky by this time? All he wished was to draw your fire and stir you up, which I reckon he's done," soothed Tad laughingly.
Stacy chuckled under his breath, at the same time keeping a weather eye out for any hostile move that Professor Zepplin might make, for the professor plainly was excited.
"That is all very well, young men," returned the professor. "I know that you know what my Americanism is. I have no need to tell you that, but, as Tad says, this is a good time for us all to declare our loyalty, and we should reiterate it every day of our lives."
"That's the talk," cried Ned Rector.
"As you boys know, I was born in Germany. I attended a German military school and, to cut the story short, I became a German officer. I fought in many battles—-"
"At the battle of the Nile he was fitting all the while," murmured the fat boy under his breath. Tad rebuked Stacy with a look.
"One day, after I had served my time, I emigrated to America. It was not until then that I realized that I had been wrong, that I had been upholding an unworthy cause. That was years ago. Soon I had absorbed the spirit of American liberty and became at one with its ideals. I became a citizen. Of course I looked back on my army experience with a certain amount of pride. No one who has fought and bled can help doing that—-up to a certain point."
"I can well understand that," murmured Tad. "I think I know how you felt."
"When Germany made war on little Belgium and France my pride of service turned to regret. I was sorry deep down in my heart that I had served the Fatherland, but I rejoiced that I was then an American, a loyal American. It was when—-when the despicable Huns sank the Lusitania, the most dastardly crime in the world's history, that my soul was suddenly filled with loathing. I offered my services to the country of my adoption, believing that they would go to war at once, but I was too old, and then America was not yet prepared for the great conflict. Since we went to war I have again offered my services. I can still fight, young men."
"I should say you can," interjected Tad.
"My name, at this time, is an unfortunate one," continued the professor. "It is not the name, but the heart that counts, and my heart is in and for America, and my life and all that I have or ever shall have is hers for the asking."
The Pony Rider Boys with one accord sprang to their feet and, tossing their hats in the air, uttered a wild cowboy yell. Professor Zepplin held up a hand.
"Wait!" he commanded. "There is something yet to be done and now is the time to do it." Thrusting a hand into a pocket he drew forth a leather case and opened it with unsteady fingers. From the case he drew a small object wrapped in tissue paper.
"The Iron Cross," murmured the boys.
"Yes, it is the Iron Cross," agreed the professor. "Time was when this was my most priceless possession. Now I loathe it. Its possession has troubled me greatly of late and it has been my intention to rid myself of the hateful thing. Boys, what shall be done with it?"
"That is for you to say, Professor," answered Tad in a low voice.
"Get an axe," advised Chunky.
"Yes, yes, the axe," agreed the professor.
Tad handed the tool to the professor. The latter placed the once prized decoration on a stone and with one blow from the axe smashed the cross. Blow after blow he rained on the medal until it lay scattered in pieces. These the professor gathered up and hurled far from him.
"That is what I think of Germany, monarchial Germany, the assassin of innocent women and children."
"Boys, 'The Star-spangled Banner,'" cried Tad after a moment of impressive silence.
The youthful voices of the Pony Rider Boys rose in the National anthem, the deep bass voice of Professor Zepplin booming out above all the rest.
When next we meet our boys we shall find them in utterly different surroundings. In the next volume of the present series our readers will find an extremely fascinating tale. It is published under the title,The Pony Rider Boys On The Blue Ridge; Or, A Lucky Find in the Carolina Mountains.