The Mexican boy had apparently escaped serious injury at the time the frightened cayuse made a sudden bolt upon sighting the bear, and threw him over his head onto the rocks.
The lad was already sitting up, and rubbing his knee in a dazed way, as if not fully understanding what had happened. The pony rushed wildly away, heading up the wide gully, as though with a full knowledge of where it was going. And the poor little burro would doubtless have been only too glad of a chance to follow, if only it could break loose from the detaining rope.
Meantime the ugly monster, that had been the cause of all this commotion, was shuffling closer with each passing second, eager to strike down the burro with one savage blow from his mighty paw with its long claws, after which he could proceed to help himself to what those various packages contained.
All this Frank Haywood saw in that one glance he shot toward the scene of action. The boy was apparently directly in the path of the hungry bear. And when his pony had fled in such a panic he must have also carried off the rifle, if the boy possessed so valuable a weapon.
Thus the little fellow was at the mercy of the most feared wild beast to be found in all the territory between the Atlantic and the Pacific.
A wild inclination to hurl himself between that brute and his prospective victim surged over Frank. With but a knife, or even a revolver to back him up, such a rash act would have been little short of madness. Fortunately it was not needed.
"Let me try for him, Frank!" said a trembling voice at his side.
And then, all at once, Frank Haywood discovered his chum was crouching close by, and that he was clutching a rifle in his shaking hands. How he had managed to get hold of the weapon Frank could not even guess, because his own was a dozen feet away just then.
Now Bob Archer had certainly never before set eyes on a ferocious bear outside of the circus or museum. And doubtless that brownish-colored beast looked as big as a house to him, for he was very much excited. But he had true Kentucky pluck, and even that circumstance did not make him quail. If the monster had seemed to equal two houses, still would Bob have tried to do his duty. And just then it was to save that poor little Mexican boy.
The grizzly had advanced so rapidly that he was already almost upon the crouching boy, who stared at him as if in dire dismay, as well he might. It was not too late, even then, for the boy to have escaped, could he have understood the real situation, and that it was the food in the packs the bear craved, rather than his life; but he did not seem to realize the fact.
They had seen him fumbling about his sash, and now he drew something forth that glistened in the early morning sun. Why, the little chap had actually drawn his knife, as though that trifling bit of steel could avail anything more than the prick of a pin against that shaggy monster.
The boy was shivering as with terror, but all the same he showed himself game. Frank was amazed by the sight, and not apt to forget it in a hurry.
But by now Bob had stepped forward, uttering a sharp "hello" as he did so. His object, of course, was to attract the attention of the bear toward himself. This might cause the grizzly to change his course, and allow of a few more seconds' delay. It would also divert the attack from the helpless boy to one who was at least better armed, even though not professing to be a bear-hunter.
Frank aroused himself. He remembered that he, too, had a repeating rifle, leaning against the trunk of a tree not far off. He sprang to secure the firearm, in the belief that possibly his assistance would be needed in order to finish the dreaded animal.
However good Bob's intentions were, when he sought to draw the attention of the grizzly toward himself, they did not succeed as he had hoped. Bruin seemed to know that a feast awaited him as soon as he could clear a way to that frantic little burro with the big load. And he declined to be turned aside on any account.
Seeing this, the Kentucky boy dropped on one knee. He felt that he must find some sort of rest for his gun, since his shaking hands could hardly be expected to hold the weapon steady when it came time to pull the trigger.
Even as Frank swept up his gun he heard the weapon of his chum speak sharply. The report was instantly drowned in a tremendous roar. Looking, even as he drew back the hammer of his rifle, Frank saw that the bear had finally turned away from temptation in the way of meat and supplies. He had started to rush Bob, whom he evidently recognized as the cause of that sudden pain which had shot through his bulky body.
Bob was pumping another cartridge into the firing chamber of his repeater. He seemed cool, although perhaps only he himself knew how his heart was pounding away like mad against his ribs.
Both guns spoke together, it seemed. The grizzly gave another roar, even more furious than before. At the same time, however, he stumbled, and fell over sideways. Then he tried desperately to scramble back to his four feet, still full of fight.
Both the boys again put their guns in a firing condition. Even if tremendously excited at the moment, they seemed to remember what was necessary to do in order to accomplish this result.
But the bear was apparently unable to get up again. One of the bullets must have most luckily reached a vital point in the region of his heart. He was floundering about unevenly, while the little Mexican boy sat and stared, still gripping that ridiculously small blade in his hand.
"We got him that time, Frank!" exclaimed Bob just then, though he could hardly believe his eyes at seeing the monster growing weaker. "He's a goner, as sure as shooting! Look at him wobble! Wow! there he goes over, to make his last kick! Frank, just think of me having a hand in the killing of such royal game! A real grizzly! Oh! I can hardly believe it!"
They now approached the spot where the little Mexican boy was getting on his feet again. He was no longer white. The threatening monster had been placed where he could do no more harm; but the little chap stared uneasily at the two saddle boys. Evidently he was possessed of a new cause for alarm in the mere fact of their unexpected presence.
The burro, meanwhile, had somehow managed to effect his release from the rope that had become fast in the crevice of the rock. Still in a panic because of the wild animal odor so close at hand, the laden animal hurried off after the cayuse that had fled along the gully, heading for where Frank had declared the canyon must undoubtedly lie.
And the boy really looked very much as though he, too, would like to depart with equally scant ceremony.
"Hi! there goes the burro!" called out Bob. "Head him off, Frank; or shall I jump on my horse and try to rope him?"
To the astonishment of both the saddle chums the Mexican boy threw out a detaining hand, crying earnestly:
"Senors, all, there is no need to chase them. They know where to go, believe me, and surely I must soon overtake them. You have saved my life, Senors. Lopez, he thanks you both. Before now have I seen such a bear; but this time I was caught dreaming. He would surely have killed me if it had not been for the brave Americanos."
Frank was struck with the soft tones of the small chap, who did not look as if he could be much more than twelve years of age. His features were regular, if thin, and the big black eyes seemed to be filled with a courage beyond the ordinary. Indeed, they could not doubt this, having seen how he had drawn that small knife on finding himself confronted by the Rocky Mountain terror.
"Well, we were only too glad to have been of help to you, Lopez," Frank remarked, as he advanced with outstretched hand.
The boy looked embarrassed, as though hardly knowing what to do. It seemed to Frank that he had been staring very hard at Bob, and he wondered why. Then again he imagined that the boy must be keeping something back. This would account for the worried look on his small, pinched, but good-looking face.
But undoubtedly Lopez realized that it ill became him to decline to take the hand that had helped save his life.
"You understand that we are your friends, Lopez, don't you?" asked Frank, as he held the small palm of the Mexican in his own strong one for a moment, and looked with a puzzled expression into the big black eyes that quickly fell under his gaze.
"Oh, yes, Senor, surely you have proved it more than enough," the little fellow hastened to say; and Frank was astonished to hear what good language he used.
"You go across mountains, eh?" asked Bob, indifferently; truth to tell he was just then more interested in the size of the great grizzly that had fallen before the guns of himself and his saddle chum, than the mere fact of this stripling being entrusted with such a task as bringing supplies to prospectors, or rustlers, as the case might prove.
A flash crossed the face of the boy, just as though he saw a sudden opening whereby his presence here might be explained without entering into details.
"Oh! yes, across the range. I get supplies for prospectors in camp," he replied, with an intake of his breath, while he watched Bob narrowly, as if, somehow, he believed he had more to fear from that source than from the tawny-haired prairie lad.
"That's kind of queer, seems to me," remarked Bob, slowly, turning to again survey the boy; "for them to send so small a chap on so long a trail. I should think it was more of a man's work, toting supplies across these mountains, through the canyons. And with the chances of running foul of such dangers as bears, not to speak of rustlers."
At that Lopez drew his diminutive figure up, and tried to assume a bold look. The Spanish blood was proud, Bob could see.
"This have I done a long while, Senors, believe me," he said, calmly; "and until to-day never have I met with trouble. Had I not been so tired and sleepy, perhaps even I might have shot the bear, who knows? It would not be the first I have seen, no, nor yet the second; but the horse ran away with my gun. But Senors, I must go on after my animals; they will be waiting for me farther along."
"Then you won't wait for us?" asked Frank. "My friend, he would like to get the claws of this fellow, to remember him by. It will not take very long, Lopez."
"Thank you, Senors, but I must not delay. Perhaps you may overtake me farther along the trail. There is no more danger; and my pack burro might scrape off his load if I am not there to watch. Again I thank you, Senors."
The boy bowed to each of them in turn, just as though he might have been an actor in some old-time play. Frank believed he had never seen such remarkable grace in any half-grown lad. Generally, at that age, boys are apt to be about as clumsy as bear cubs at play. He looked after Lopez with a frown on his face.
"What's the matter, Frank?" demanded Bob, as he noticed this expression. "Are you huffed just because the independent little rascal wouldn't let us mother him? Say, look at his strut, will you? If he was heir to the throne of Alfonso he couldn't walk finer. Give me a whack between the shoulders, won't you, Frank? Perhaps I've been asleep, and dreamed all this."
"Oh, rats! Take a look at the bear, and that'll show you what's what. There, he's disappeared behind that clump of mesquite yonder," and Frank turned to look at his saddle mate with an expression of bewilderment on his face, as though he might be trying to clutch some idea that kept eluding him.
"Suppose you help me cut these awful claws off, Frank. You see I don't know the first thing about how it's done; and I think your idea about keeping 'em for trophies is just immense."
"Well, for that matter," replied Frank, "I don't know as I ever did a job like that, myself; but I've watched old Hank do it, so I reckon we'll get along."
For a few minutes they worked away in silence. Then Bob looked up to remark:
"He said it was prospectors he was taking those supplies to, didn't he; and that he'd been doing the same a long while?"
"That was about the size of it, Bob," returned his chum, thoughtfully.
"Well," Bob went on, "between you and me, Frank, I'd rather believe little Lopez was in touch with the rustlers. I mentioned that word just on purpose to see if he would turn red, or give himself away."
"And did he?" asked the other, quickly.
"Well," replied Bob, "not so you could notice; but then he seemed such a smart chap, like as not he knew how to hide his feelings. He looked frightened when we talked of wanting him to stay with us. Mark me, there's a heap of mystery bound up in that little fellow."
"He sure puzzles me, all right," remarked Frank. "Did you notice how he had a silk handkerchief bound around his head, regular Mex fashion?"
"Sure I did," laughed Bob, without glancing up, as he used his knife industriously after the fashion set by his chum. "And I also took notice that he had a fine, glossy bunch of hair under that same colored silk bandana."
"Great governor!" ejaculated Frank, suddenly.
"What's the matter—you didn't cut yourself, I hope?" demanded his comrade, uneasily, starting up.
"Shucks! no. Something just struck me, that's all," replied Frank, with an air of disgust, and a quick look up the gully where the little Mexican had last been seen.
"Oh! Is that so?" mocked Bob. "Must have hurt right bad then, to make you peep like that. Now, I reckon it might have been something about Lopez?" for he had noted that hasty glance, and the disappointed frown.
"That's just what it was, Bob," Frank continued, in an even tone. "Fact is, I just remembered who Lopez put me in mind of. Only perhaps you'll laugh when I tell you. Remember that poor little girl Peg Grant was cuffing when you knocked him down? Well, if you took that colored handkerchief off Lopez, and let his black hair fall down, I give you my word he'd be a ringer for that Mexican child!"
Bob stared as if dazed, and then the light of a great discovery dawned upon him.
"Say, Frank!" he exclaimed presently. "Honest Indian, now, I believe you've sure struck pay dirt, and that's what!"
"Then you think the same as I do, eh, Bob?" asked the saddle boy, as if pleased.
"Well, now a heap of things seem to point that way, Frank," replied the other, slowly. "Only for the life of me I can't get it through my poor old head just why a girl like that would want to carry on in such a queer way."
"Nor me, either," laughed his chum. "That's something else for us to lie awake nights puzzling our wits over. Everything around this Thunder Mountain just seems to be plastered with mystery—who little Lopez is; what he, or she may be doing away off here in the canyons of the Rockies; and more particularly the mystery of the mountain that the reds look on as sacred; where Mendoza and his band of rustlers have gone with those stolen horses; and also who the prospectors can be that this pile of grub was meant for—it's all a blank, that's what!"
"Say, I guess that's pretty near the way it sizes up," grumbled Bob. "I don't like to run against a stone wall like this. If I was alone now, d'ye know what I'd likely be doing, Frank?"
"Well, say, perhaps I might hit close to the bull's-eye, since I've come to know you pretty well these days, Bob," replied the other. "I wouldn't be surprised one bit but what you'd go rushing after Lopez, and demand to know all about it. But Bob, I look at it in another light. That's his own private business."
"I suppose so; and I was brought up to mind my own affairs, too," said Bob.
"Wouldn't you put up a great howl now," continued Frank, "if somebody grabbed hold of you, and insisted on your giving him the whole story of your life, where you were born, what your dad did for a living, when you cut your first tooth, how much it cost your father to let you gallop around the country in the saddle with me, and all that? Say, honest now, would you knuckle down like a meek kid; or give the questioner to understand that he was poking his nose into affairs that didn't concern him one whit?"
Thereupon Bob laughed heartily.
"I give up, Frank," he admitted. "You go at a fellow, and put him in a hole as a lawyer might. We'll just let little Lopez alone, no matter whether he's girl or boy; the grub-getter of prospectors; or agent for that sly Mendoza, the cattle-rustler. And, on the whole, I reckon we've got about all the business we can attend to right now on our hands."
"That sure sounds good to me, Bob," said Frank, turning once more to get his horse, the task of securing the grizzly's claws having been completed.
Naturally enough, while the excitement was on, both horses had exhibited the greatest alarm, even though they were out of sight behind some trees. The near presence of that terrible monster had caused them to strain at their ropes, prance wildly, and try in every way possible to break loose; but those lariats had been selected with a view to wonderful strength. After the death of the grizzly the animals had gradually quieted down.
Ten minutes later, and the two saddle boys were slowly picking their way along the gully, heading upward. Frank, as one born to the country, and familiar with many of its peculiarities, amused himself by pointing out to his comrade the various positive signs that as a rule marked these strange water-courses.
"You see, Bob," he remarked, "this is really what might be called abarranca."
"Yes, I've heard you tell about them before," observed the other.
"Most of the year it's only a dry ravine, with high walls; but once in a while there happens to be a tremendous downpour of rain in the mountains, when a heavy cloud breaks against the wall above. When that comes about, this gully is going to be bank-full of roaring, rushing water; and anything caught by the flood is apt to be battered and bruised and drowned before it's swept out below."
"Whew!" observed Bob, with a shrug of the shoulders. "Let's hope then, that the next cloud-burst will have the kindness to hold off till we get out of this hole. If it caught us here, Frank, I reckon we'd just have to let our nags shift for themselves, and take to climbing the sides. And wouldn't I hate to lose Domino the worst way; even if he does give me a raft of trouble at times?"
Frank patted the satiny flank of Buckskin affectionately, as he said:
"And it would just about break me up if anything happened to this fellow, Bob. I've tried heaps of mounts, seeing that we always have hundreds on the ranch; but I never threw a leg over one I fancied like my Buckskin. Why, there are times, Bob, when the game little fellow seems next door to human to me. We understand each other right well. He knows what I'm saying now; listen to him whinny, soft-like, at me."
Possibly Bob, knowing considerable about horses himself, may have had a strong suspicion that the animal understood the touch of his young master's hand much more readily than he did spoken words; but this was a subject which he never debated with Frank. The latter had a habit of talking confidentially with his horse, and seemed satisfied to believe the animal understood.
Slowly they made their way along. Now and then Frank would dismount to examine the rocks and scanty earth that formed the trail over which they were passing.
"Always plenty of signs to tell that horses have been going along here off'n on, both ways—stacks of 'em," he announced, when perhaps an hour had elapsed since they left the scene of the encounter with the grizzly.
The ravine, or gully, which he called abarranca, had gradually changed its character. It was now more in the nature of a canyon; though there were still places where the walls, instead of towering high above their heads, sloped gradually upwards.
"Smart horses could easy climb out of here up that rise," remarked Frank, thoughtfully eyeing one of these places.
"Are you thinking that perhaps we'd better get out with our nags, while we have the chance, and leave them, while we keep up the game on foot?" asked Bob, suspecting that his chum might be considering such a move.
"Well," remarked the other, "it stands to reason that our horses aren't going to be of much use in the mountains. If we shook 'em now, we'd be able to climb almost anywhere, and peek into places we'd never be able to find as long as we stuck to our mounts. So, if you're of the same mind, Bob, we'll try and find a place where we might rope 'em out, an' take the chances of finding 'em again when we're done poking around."
"I hope then, none of the rustlers will run across them while we're away," said Bob, as he looked across a deep little pool that lay just at the foot of a very high slope; and then fastened his gaze on a peculiarly twisted cedar that seemed to cling to the bank, half way up.
"Leave that to me, my boy," returned his chum, confidently. "I'll make sure they leave no trail behind to catch the eye of a horseman riding past. Besides, we're not dead sure, you know, that the rustlers have really got a camp around these diggings. P'raps now, they just push through the canyon to get to some other point across the divide. Or it may be a favorite trail for them to carry off the cattle they rustle. In some hidden valley, you see, they can change the brands; and then openly drive the steers to a shipping station on the railroad."
"All right, then," agreed his companion, who was ready to put the utmost faith in any plan proposed by his saddle chum. "We'll keep our eyes peeled for a chance to get the horses out of this place. Here's a slope they might climb, as you say; but it looks as if they'd have to swim that pool first."
"No use trying it," remarked Frank, casting a rapid glance upward to where, at a distance of possibly a hundred feet, he could see little bushes growing on the edge of the top of the rise, which slope formed an angle of something like forty-five degrees; "sure to be better places further on, where the holding is firmer."
"And yet," remarked Bob, suddenly, "horses have made this climb only a short time ago, Frank!"
"What makes you say that?" asked the other, interested at once.
"Why, there are tracks going up slantingly, you see; and even if I am next door to a greenhorn I can tell that the marks look fresh," Bob declared, pointing.
"Say, I take a back seat, Bob," Frank remarked, laughingly. "That's the time you saw my lead, and went me one better. Sure there have been horses climbing that slope—one, two, three of 'em. And Lopez, he had only two; so it can hardly be him. I wonder now if that measly tenderfoot, Peg——"
"Look up yonder!" interrupted Bob, suddenly pointing again. "I saw the bushes moving along the edge of the top there. Somebody's got an eye on us right now, Frank. D'ye reckon it could be one of those rustlers; and would they try to hold us up so as to get our mounts?"
Bob instinctively snatched his rifle, and began to make a demonstration, as though half tempted to shoot. His action looked so decidedly hostile that it naturally created something of a panic in the breast of the unknown who was lying concealed behind the fringe of bushes.
They saw a sudden hasty movement, as though, in alarm, the hidden one had started to change his position. Then something not down on the bills occurred.
The loose earth at the edge of the top of the long slope seemed to give way in a treacherous manner. Immediately a human figure came into view, struggling, clawing desperately, and trying in every way possible to clutch at something firm in order to halt his downward progress.
But it was all of no avail. A second figure attempted to grasp the imperiled one in time, but evidently failed to secure a firm hold. And so the fellow started to roll down the slope. He came much after the manner in which a bag of corn might turn over and over. Sometimes he was head-first; and then again resuming the side motion, he whirled around in a way that was enough to make anyone dizzy.
All the while he kept letting out shrill squeals of real alarm; as though the prospect of a final plunge into that deep dark pool at the base filled him with dread.
By some rare chance the rolling man struck the twisted little cedar that tried to keep its dying hold on the scanty soil half way up the rise. Caught by the seat of his stout trousers on one of the scrubby tree's broken branches, the unfortunate one was suspended in midair, kicking, floundering and yelling at a tremendous rate.
"Say!" exclaimed Frank, when he was able to catch his breath again, "What d'ye think of that, now? Our friend Peg is so glad to see us he couldn't wait to walk down, but tried to skate. And see what's happened to him! Next thing he wants is a bath; and I sure reckon he's due for one when that cedar pulls out its last root. Wow!"
"Splash!"
Hardly had Frank ventured upon his prediction before it came true. The stout cloth of which Peg's garments were composed might have sustained his weight indefinitely, and had it depended on his trousers giving way, his friends above must have been compelled to use their ropes in order to release him from so unfortunate a predicament.
But the roots of the little stunted cedar were soon torn from their hold. And when this came about, of course the unfortunate Peg continued his roll down the balance of that steep slope, clawing at every object which he thought might stay his progress.
He certainly did drop into the pool with a tremendous splash that sent the water flying in every direction.
At first he vanished entirely from view. Then his head emerged, and it could be seen that he was swimming furiously to keep afloat. Somehow his awkward movements made Bob Archer think of a hippopotamus he had once seen in a tank.
Peg must have had his mouth open when he struck. Perhaps he was trying to shout for somebody to stop him, and in this manner he swallowed a quantity of water. At any rate he spouted forth quite a little fluid as he floundered about, kicking and beating with feet and hands, as though he were being run by an engine that had gone wild.
Both of the saddle boys grinned. They could not help it, the thing looked so laughable. Had it been a dear friend, instead of an enemy, they must have enjoyed the sight just the same.
Twice Peg bobbed under, to come up again, paddling for all the world like a puppy that was having its first swim. His face had taken on a look of terror.
"Help! Can't keep up much longer! Something pulling me down!" he spluttered.
Frank and Bob exchanged a quick glance. Of course this put quite another face on the matter. If Peg was really in danger they had no business to stand there, laughing. It might seem funny to them, but to Peg the matter was not at all comical.
"I don't believe the critter knows how to swim, Bob!" exclaimed Frank.
"That's what," answered the other, seriously. "He's just keeping up because he's crazy with fright. We've got to get him out of there, Frank."
"We sure have; come along," echoed the western boy.
Fortunately Frank was possessed of a quick mind. He never wasted any time in wondering what methods he should use in order to accomplish things.
The pool was of considerable width, and even though he bent over its border he would not be able to come within five feet of the struggling Peg.
Without hesitation he stepped into the water, holding his gun. Two feet from the bank and it was to his knees. But he believed he had now reached a point where he could hold out his rifle and touch Peg.
"Take hold, and I'll pull you out!" he called, as he extended the gun.
It was laughable to see how eagerly the other seized upon the chance. And, when Peg had fastened himself to the other end of the rifle Frank easily drew him shoreward.
The bully came out, dripping wet, and in anything but an angelic temper. It was bad enough, in his eyes, to have fallen into the pool; but to be rescued by a fellow he hated, as he did Frank Haywood, added to the aggravation.
After spluttering for a minute or two, so that he could get rid of the balance of the water he had swallowed, Peg faced the two chums.
Strange to say he did not seem to consider that Frank had placed him under any obligations in the least when he dragged him out of the water.
"See what you did," Peg exclaimed, now spluttering with burning anger. "What d'ye mean pointing your old gun up at me, and making as if you meant to shoot?"
"Oh!" remarked Bob, elevating his eyebrows; "was that what forced you to take that header down the slope? Well, now, we had an idea you were so glad to see us that you just couldn't wait to walk down, but wanted to fly! But, if I was to blame at all for your trouble, I'm sure I'm sorry. But you see, we didn't know whether we were going to be held up by rustlers or Indians. That's what comes from hiding, Peg."
"Bah! guess I'll do just whatever I want," spluttered the other, wiping his dripping face on his sleeve without doing either much good, however. "And do you know what I think?"
"Well, no, I must say I don't happen to be a mind reader, Peg. Suppose you tell me," replied the unruffled Bob, who had taken the measure of the other, and knew he might be set down as a great boaster, but one not particularly dangerous when it came to a show-down.
"I believe you just did that on purpose, that's what," Peg went on, hotly. "You've got it in for me ever since that time we had our little affair, when I laid a hand on the Mexican girl who sassed me. You just knew I'd jump up in a hurry if you made out you was going to shoot; and I bet you even remembered this lake at the bottom of the slope. Oh! it worked all right; but don't you forget; my time will come. I'm going to pay you back in full! I've got friends who'll stick by me, all right. Bah! what're you two fellers doing here on Thunder Mountain, anyhow?"
A new suspicion had apparently seized upon Peg. He viewed their presence as a personal insult; just as though they might have plotted to forestall him in the glorious adventure he had planned to carry out.
"Well, if the old mountain belongs to you," spoke up Frank, thinking it time he took a hand in the talk, "we'll ask you to excuse us, and back out. But I don't think you have any claim on it; so we'll hang around as long as we see fit. And remember this, Peg, we're going to mind our own business; but we don't stand for any bother from you, or those with you. Understand that?"
Peg looked at him long and steadily. The eyes of Frank never wavered in the slightest degree.
"All right," said Peg, finally, as his own eyes dropped. "You wait and see; that's what! This thing's been hanging fire a long time now; and some day we're bound to have it out, Frank Haywood. My dad's after yours with a sharp stick; and perhaps the trouble is going to come down to the next generation. You'll get yours good and plenty when the right time comes!"
He turned away, and, limping to where the slope could be reached by skirting the edge of the pool, laboriously commenced to climb, following the tracks of the three horses.
"There's one of his guides up yonder, Frank," remarked Bob; "sitting on the top of the bank. Looks to me like he was grinning to beat the band."
"Yes, that's Nick Jennings," replied Frank. "Used to work on the Circle Ranch, but he got his walking papers because he was caught stealing from the other men. He's got a grudge against me because I'm a Haywood. But Nick likes a joke as well as any cowboy; and who could keep a straight face after seeing what happened here? Look a little farther on, and you'll just glimpse the colored handkerchief Spanish Joe wears on his head."
"I see him peeping at us from behind the bushes," returned Bob. "And say, he's handling that gun of his just like he'd be glad to use it if anybody gave him the dare. I reckon Spanish Joe is some ugly customer, Frank."
"That's just what he is; but let's be moving on. If Peg takes another flop and splashes in this puddle again, he'll have to swim for it, or else depend on his own guides to yank him out. No more for me. I'm wet to the knees; and did you hear him thank me for it? He's sure the limit."
So the two boys went on.
They were not interfered with, which pleased Frank not a little. Knowing the nature of Spanish Joe, and the revengeful character of Nick Jennings, he would not have been much surprised had they attacked him and Bob, and carried things with a high hand.
Presently a turn in the canyon shut out the scene of their late adventure. The last glimpse they had of Peg Grant, he had nearly arrived at the top of the slope, and it seemed possible that he would not make a slip that might cause him to repeat his recent circus act.
"Why do you think they left the trail, and made their horses climb up?" asked Bob, presently.
"Well, they might have talked it over just as we did, and chosen to leave the horses so they could look around on foot," Frank replied.
"But you suspect they might have another reason, too?" Bob insisted.
"That's a fact," replied his chum, seriously. "For all we know they may have run across some sign of the rustlers, and thought it best to get out of the beaten rut here before they got caught."
"Then you don't believe that little Lopez had anything to do with it, Frank?"
"What, that Mex boy? Oh! he's out of the business long ago," replied the other.
"In what way? Didn't he come along this trail ahead of us?" asked Bob.
"Sure thing," Frank went on. "But you see I've missed the marks of that burro's little hoofs for nearly twenty minutes. I made up my mind Lopez had some slick way of climbing out of thebarrancaa ways back, without leaving much of any trail. I told you he was a sly one, and I say the same now, no matter whether he's a brother to the girl you defended against Peg, or the girl herself."
"All right, Frank. Get us out of this as soon as you can," Bob remarked, looking ahead, as though he did not much fancy the appearance of things there.
Ten minutes later Frank drew rein sharply.
"What's doing?" asked Bob, nervously, as he half raised his rifle, which he had insisted on holding in his hand all the time since that meeting with Peg. "Think you see signs of trouble from Peg and his bunch; or is it something else?"
"Something else this time," remarked Frank. "Fact is, our chance has come to get up out of here with the nags!"
"How does this suit you, Bob?"
Frank asked this question as he and his comrade sat there in their saddles, and glanced around at the peaceful scene. They had climbed the bank of thebarranca, and reached a spot where the grass was growing under a cluster of mesquite trees.
"It looks good enough for me," replied the young Kentuckian.
"Plenty of forage for the horses," Frank went on, nodding his head as he looked; "and do you see that little trickling stream of water that crawls along? All we have to do is to hide the horses here. When we want 'em, the chances are we'll find 'em safe."
"I hope so," remarked Bob, as he alighted.
In a short time they had removed saddles and bridles, hiding these among the neighboring rocks, together with their supplies, and had picketed the horses by means of the lariats.
"Now what?" asked Bob.
"You sit down here, and wait till I come back," Frank remarked.
"What are you going to do?" the Kentucky lad inquired; "something that I might lend a hand at?"
"No, I reckon you're a little shy on knowing how to hide a trail, Bob. Old Hank showed me, and I've practiced it often. This promises to be a chance to see whether I learned my lesson half-way decent."
"Oh! all right, Frank. But some day I expect you to show me all about that sort of thing. You know I want to be in the swim, and learn how to do everything there is. I'll wait here by the water," and Bob dropped down to rest.
"I won't be gone long," Frank observed. "Pretty much all the slope was made up of stone; and what a great time the horses did have, trying to hang on. Once I thought your nag was going to take a nasty plunge, because he isn't as used to the work as a Western pony would be. But he recovered, thanks to the help you gave him, and made the top all right. So-long, Bob."
"I notice you're taking your gun along," remarked the one who was to stay.
"Well, when you're in the mountains it's just as well to be prepared all the time. You never can tell when you'll run slap into something. It might be a big grizzly like the one we met; then perhaps a hungry panther might take a notion to tackle you. I knew a cowman who had that happen to him. Yes, and perhaps you heard him tell the story."
"You must mean Ike Lasker," Bob replied, quickly. "Yes, I remember how he said he was lying down, waiting for some feeding deer off to windward to work closer, when, all of a sudden, something struck him on the back, and nearly knocked the wind out of him for keeps. He managed to get his knife out, and they had it there, good and hard."
"Ike said he nearly cashed in his checks that time," Frank added. "Some of his mates found him, after they discovered his horse feeding near by. The panther was dead as a stone, and Ike was clawed and bit till he looked like a map of the delta of the Mississippi—anyhow, that's the way he told it. Keep your shooter handy, too, Bob."
"I will that," returned the Kentucky boy, impressed by his chum's earnestness.
After a little while Frank came back again. His manner told that he was quite satisfied with what he had done.
"A sharp-eyed trailer might find where we left the canyon," he admitted; "but I don't believe any ordinary fellow would notice the marks. So I think our horses stand a first class chance of being here when we come back for 'em."
Bob got on his feet.
"I've fixed up some grub, just as you told me," he remarked. "It isn't much, but ought to serve in a pinch."
"And as it's nearly noon now," observed Frank. "Why not take a snack before we leave our base of supplies? Let's get the stuff out of the cache again, and have a round of bites."
"I don't see the use of hurrying away from here right now, anyhow," Bob remarked, while they were eating.
"You mean," said Frank, "that we only came here to see what we could find out about the secret of old Thunder Mountain, and why it kicks up such a rumpus every little while?"
"Yes, and seems to me that since we're right on the ground now, we might just as well start business, here," Bob asserted.
"That is, hang around until night, and wait to see if the grinding begins again, as it did when we were in camp below?"
"We'd be in a position to guess what it was, better than before," Bob went on.
"That's a fact," laughed Frank. "And if, as lots of people think, this old mountain is a played-out volcano, perhaps we might even smell the sulphur cooking, by sticking our noses down into some of these crevices in the rocks."
"Now you're joshing me, Frank!" declared the Kentucky lad, reprovingly.
"I am not," replied the other, immediately. "Suppose there was any truth in that fairy story about the fires away down in the earth here; don't you think a fellow might get a whiff of the brimstone if he was Johnny on the spot? Why, honest now, Bob, it was on my mind to find some sort of cave up here, and go in just as far as we could. Don't you see the point?"
"Oh! I reckon I do, Frank. You take little stock in that yarn; but, all the same, you think we ought to look into it, now we're on the ground?"
"That's it, Bob. Why, even my dad kind of favors that idea, and I want to either prove it a fake, or learn that there's something to it."
So they lay there, lazily enough, instead of climbing farther up the side of the mountain. It was very pleasant to keep in the cool shade of the trees, with that trickling little stream so near, for, as the afternoon advanced, it seemed as though the air became very oppressive.
Frank was looking up at the sky many times, and finally his companion asked him what was on his mind.
"I don't pretend to be a weather sharp," Frank replied; "but, all the same, there are signs up there that've got me guessing."
"Well, itisclouding up some," replied Bob, as he swept a look around at what they could see of the arch overhead. "Perhaps the long drought is going to be broken at last, Frank. Your father will be tickled, if it turns out that way. He's been complaining of late about the stock having to hunt twice as far away from the ranch for forage. A rain would make things green again."
"Sure it would," replied Frank; "but, as I said to you before, a rain storm up in the Rockies is sometimes no joke. We may have to do some tall climbing if it gets a whack at us when we're in the canyon."
The day was passing. They had seen nothing more of Peg Grant and his two guides, but could easily believe the others were not a great way off. Perhaps they, too, were only waiting for night to come in order to start their investigation.
"I don't think either Spanish Joe, or Nick, could be depended on, if the thing began to look too spooky," Frank had said more than once, showing that his thoughts must be running in the direction of the rival party.
"Oh! this is easy," chuckled Bob. "If all we've got to do is to squat here and take notes when the menagerie begins to wake up, it's going to be a snap."
Frank did not want to make his chum nervous by confessing that he had another reason for agreeing to remain there idle the balance of the day, besides the fact of there being no hurry, and that they could take notes just as easy there as farther up the mountain.
The fact was, he had concluded, it would be safer for them to remain in hiding while daylight lasted, and do what searching they expected to accomplish in the darkness of night.
It was too easy, for anyone who had no scruples, and wished to do them injury, to drop a rock down from the wall of the canyon. Against this sort of attack their rifles would be useless; and terrible damage might result.
As to who would be guilty of such an outrage, Frank only remembered that Peg was in a white heat of indignation, and fully capable of doing some madcap prank in order to frighten off the two saddle boys. He was also not a little worried about the rustlers, supposed to be lurking somewhere not far distant.
Last, but not least, there were the prospectors to whom little Lopez had admitted he was carrying the supplies that were secured on the pack burro. Frank had not heard of any treasure-hunters having invaded the slopes and valleys around Thunder Mountain; but this did not mean it could not be true.
If these men were secretly taking out possibly large quantities of precious ore, and did not wish to be discovered, or disturbed in their operations, even they might try to alarm the invaders by hostile demonstrations.
"It's as pretty a mixup as ever I heard tell of," Frank had said several times that afternoon, while they were exchanging confidences in connection with the remarkable possibilities around them. "What with the rustlers, Peg and his crowd of thunder investigators, the little Mex. boy and his unknown prospector bunch; and last but not least, Bob, ourselves, it sure has me going some."
"Yes," the other had returned, "but I hope we'll keep clear of the whole lot, and be able to find out something worth while. I wish the next night was over, and we were galloping along over the plains headed for good old Circle Ranch."
"Me too, Bob, always provided we carried with us an explanation for those deep grumblings that shake the earth, and seem to come out of the heart of Thunder Mountain. I'm a stubborn fellow, as I reckon you know; and when I throw my hat into the ring I like to stick it through till they carry me out."
"The same here," Bob had declared, after which the chums had to shake hands on it again, thus sealing the compact to stick.
And so the day went, and night came on apace.
The air did not seem to cool off to any extent as darkness approached. Frank took pains to call the attention of his comrade to this fact.
"You can guess what that means, Bob," he remarked. "It's sure going to bring on a whopper before a great while. All the signs point that way right now. So we can expect to get ready for a ducking."
"Oh! that doesn't bother me," declared Bob. "I've been through many a one. All I hope is that we don't happen to be in the old canyon when that cloudburst you mentioned comes along. I'm not hankering after a ride on a forty foot wave, and down that crooked old canyon, too. Excuse me, if you please!"
"Of course if we only stick it out here, there's going to be no danger," Frank remarked, indifferently.
"I see that you're just itching to be on the move, old fellow," ventured Bob, who knew the restless nature of his chum.
"Do you? Well, Bob, to tell the truth, if I was alone now, I suppose I'd be making for the top of the old hill, bent on finding out whether there was any sign of smoke oozing from the cracks and crevices at just the time the rumblings came on."
"Then what's to hinder both of us going at it?" demanded the proud Kentucky lad, fearful that Frank might think him timid because he had suggested their remaining out of the danger zone.
"We may, later on. Just now it's our business to get some supper; and hot or not, I'm going to make a cooking fire back of this big boulder, where nobody could ever glimpse the blaze."
"Did you say coffee?" remarked Bob. "All right, I'll go you, old fellow. I feel a little that way myself, and that's no yarn."
So Frank got things started, and it was not a great while before the coffee pot was bubbling as merrily as ever, with that appetizing odor wafting from it.
The darkness kept on increasing while they ate. An hour later it was very black all around them, and Bob viewed the possibility of their venturing into the unknown perils around them with anything but a comfortable feeling.
It was just when he was wondering whether Frank would not conclude to remain in the safe position they occupied that he heard his comrade give a sharp cry.
"What have you discovered, Frank?" asked Bob, starting to get up.
"A light up the side of the mountain yonder," replied the other, "and, Bob, perhaps if we could only manage to climb up there, we'd learn something worth while. The question is, have we the nerve to try it?"