TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:
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[Illustration: THE TARANTULA.
_Page 52._]
“Forest and Fire” Series of Books for Boys
ACROSS TEXAS
BY
EDWARD S. ELLIS
_Author of “The Cabin in the Clearing,”
&c. &c._
[Illustration: DECORATION]
T. NELSON AND SONS
_London, Edinburgh, and New York_
1894
CONTENTS.
I. A LETTER AND A TELEGRAM, 1
II. THROUGH TO TEXAS, 10
III. IN SAN ANTONIO, 20
IV. A STARTLING INTERRUPTION, 29
V. A TEST OF ONE’S NERVES, 38
VI. TWO GOOD SHOTS, 49
VII. AN INTRUDER IN CAMP, 59
VIII. BELL RICKARD, 69
IX. DEPARTURE OF THE GUEST, 78
X. DANGER IN THE EAST, 87
XI. STRANGE PROCEEDINGS, 96
XII. WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 105
XIII. AN UNEXPECTED SIGNAL, 114
XIV. A STRANGE ABSENCE, 123
XV. CAUGHT FOUL, 132
XVI. AN ASTOUNDING DISCOVERY, 141
XVII. THE SOLITARY PURSUER, 150
XVIII. THE SECOND RANGE OF HILLS, 159
XIX. IN THE RAVINE, 168
XX. REINFORCEMENTS, 176
XXI. THE PURSUIT, 186
XXII. ACROSS THE BORDER, 195
XXIII. A RELIC OF OTHER DAYS, 204
XXIV. A RACE WITH AN AVALANCHE, 213
XXV. THE RANCH, 222
XXVI. BELL RICKARD’S SCHEME, 230
XXVII. WATCHING AND WAITING, 239
XXVIII. THE SOUND OF A PISTOL, 248
XXIX. THROUGH THE NIGHT, 257
XXX. A FIGURE IN THE DARKNESS, 266
XXXI. THE RETURN, 275
XXXII. THE ENCOUNTER, 284
XXXIII. IMPORTANT NEGOTIATIONS, 291
XXXIV. A STRANGE DISCOVERY, 302
XXXV. THROUGH THE LINES AGAIN, 311
XXXVI. THE DECISION, 320
XXXVII. THE FINAL CHARGE, 329
XXXVIII. CONCLUSION, 337
ACROSS TEXAS.
CHAPTER I.
A LETTER AND A TELEGRAM.
NICK RIBSAM, of whom I had considerable to tell you in “The Young Moose
Hunters,” returned to his humble home in Western Pennsylvania with his
health fully restored by his stirring experience in the mountainous
forests of Maine. He was naturally strong and active, and one glance
at his bright eyes, his ruddy cheeks, and his alert movements told his
sister Nellie and the beloved father and mother that the prescription
of the physician had worked like a charm.
Nick was now a sturdy youth, a bright scholar and a general favorite
with all who knew him. His parents were not of the kind that are
demonstrative, but their hearts were wrapped up in their worthy son,
and they were full of gratitude that he should come back to them at the
end of what, after all, was only a brief absence, without a trace of
the weakness that caused them so much misgiving when he went away.
They felt a strong friendship and affection, too, for Herbert Watrous
and his parents, through whose kindness the trip down East was brought
about. There was no “discounting” the fondness of the Watrouses for the
manly youth. Mr. Watrous, as has been shown, possessed large means, and
denied his son nothing, his affection for Herbert leading him astray
in that respect. But he saw the great good done his boy through his
association with Nick. You know that the most forceful sermon ever
preached is that of example. It matters little what a person says, but
it is everything what he does. It is not the profession, but the life
which must be the test, as it certainly will be before the final Judge
of all mankind.
Mr. Watrous and his wife welcomed Herbert home, and their eyes sparkled
at sight of the immense stuffed moose forming a striking trophy of
the young man’s visit to Uncle Dick Musgrove. He could not be blamed
for feeling proud over his prize, and for having a number of large
photographs struck off and sent to his friends, but that which touched
the parents’ hearts was the change in Herbert himself. He had always
been fond of them, but with that feeling was now mingled a tender
respect that had been wanting before. He never forgot their wishes;
he showed a deeper interest in his studies; he abandoned habits and
associations which he knew his parents disliked; he made a confidant
of his father as well as his mother, and consulted with them and asked
their counsel in whatever important step he had in mind.
Now, what had wrought this change in Herbert Watrous? Nick had done
very little “preaching” to him. True, whenever the chance was inviting,
he dropped a word or two that clinched an important principle, and now
and then, when their long talks took a favorable drift, he gave his
views with a power and point that could not be mistaken, but it was
the daily life of Nick that did the blessed work.
A family holding the social position of Mr. Watrous in New York has no
lack of privileges for a son; but there was nothing that gave Herbert
the genuine pleasure that he gained by a visit to Nick Ribsam, in his
quiet country home in Western Pennsylvania. The pure air, the healthful
food, the perfect cooking, the cleanliness that was everywhere, the
cheerfulness, the mutual love and confidence, the warm welcome from
everyone—these brought to him an enjoyment and satisfaction far beyond
what mere wealth can buy.
It was during the early autumn succeeding the incidents told in “The
Moose Hunters,” that Herbert paid his second visit to Nick. The latter
met him at the railway station, but the delight of welcoming his old
friend to his country home was sadly marred by the appearance of
Herbert. Beyond a doubt he was in a bad way. He was nearly six feet
tall, very slim, with a flushed face, a dragging walk, short breath,
and, indeed, with every sign of incipient consumption.
“I know what you are thinking about,” said he, with a wan smile, “but I
don’t look any worse than I feel.”
“You do look bad,” replied Nick, as he drove homeward in their
old-fashioned carriage. “What does it mean?”
“I hardly know; the doctor says I am growing too fast, have studied too
hard, and haven’t had enough exercise. You know I meant to enter Yale
this fall and have been boning like the mischief. But I have given up
that and postponed college for a year at least, and,” he added with a
sigh, “perhaps forever.”
“You mustn’t talk that way,” said Nick, pained beyond expression; “you
must stop all study and live outdoors for a few weeks. You have no bad
habits, Herbert?”
“None at all, though I may be reaping the penalty of my former
foolishness; but I haven’t touched tobacco or alcohol in any form for
six months.”
“I see no reason why you should not come out all right in a short
time,” added Nick, uttering the wish rather than the belief he felt.
“I have a letter in my pocket from my father to your father; I know
what is in it, but I will let him tell you himself.”
Home being reached, the team put away, and a kind welcome given to
Herbert by Nellie and her parents, all sat down to the meal awaiting
them. At its conclusion, Herbert handed the letter he bore to Mr.
Ribsam, who curiously broke the seal.
When he saw it was written in English he smiled and passed it to his
son.
“I vill lets Nick read him, cause I don’t English reads as vell as
German as I don’t.”
Nick took the missive and read aloud, the others listening attentively:
“NEW YORK, October 13, 18—
“MY DEAR MR. RIBSAM:
“My son Herbert has expressed the gratitude which his mother and
myself will ever feel toward your noble son Nicholas, for the
immeasurable good he has done my boy by his precept and example. That
influence will follow him like a blessing through life, and you and
your good wife are to be congratulated on having such a worthy child.
“I am about to ask a great favor of you. We are alarmed for Herbert’s
health. It is certainly singular that last winter it was your
son whose condition was bad, while now it is my own who is in a
condition that causes us the gravest alarm. I have consulted the
best physicians in New York, who tell me that he is threatened with
consumption; that medicine will not cure him, but, like your own son
last year, he must give up his indoors life at home and secure a
radical change of air and surroundings.
“I would arrange to have him spend a few weeks with you, where I know
he is welcome, but the medical men tell me that he runs a risk so long
as he is exposed to a northern climate, with its sudden and violent
changes.
“We have considered the question of a sea voyage, and a winter in
the Bermudas, the West Indies, or in Southern France; but there are
objections to all these, the principal of which is our dislike to
have him go out of our own country, where he would have to meet a new
language, different kinds of people, and unfavorable surroundings.
“The plan we have decided upon is to send him on a tour through the
southwestern section of our own country. We have arranged for him to
visit Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, and Southern California, hoping that
by the return of spring he will be so fully restored to health that he
can come home as sound in body as your own son.
“The favor I ask of you is that you will consent that Nicholas shall
accompany him. I am aware that this is asking a great sacrifice of
you, and I have hesitated a long time before putting the request on
paper. You need your boy at home with you; it will cause you and his
mother and sisters great misgiving to let him go away for five or six
months, and no doubt involve considerable pecuniary loss. Still, my
solicitude for my own child forces me to ask this great sacrifice at
your hands.
“In doing so, there are several conditions upon which I shall insist.
The first is that under no circumstances shall it cost you or your son
a penny. My position in railway matters enables me to secure, without
trouble, passes on the leading lines from your home over the entire
route and return. These passes are now in Herbert’s possession. Other
expenses will be involved, as some of the travelling will have to be
done in stage coaches and on horseback, to say nothing of the cost
of living. All this is provided for. My son has letters to bankers
at various points _en route_ which will secure him ample funds. They
will need no outfit until they reach San Antonio, and start further
westward. It is my earnest wish that if Nicholas accompanies Herbert,
doing so as his friend, companion, and, in one sense, his escort, I
shall be permitted to make compensation therefor, as properly due you
for loss of his valuable services.
“If you will consent that your son shall go with him, I advise that
the start be made at once from your house. If you feel that I am
presuming too much on your kindness do not hesitate to say so, and I
will try to make other arrangements.
“I am, my dear sir, very truly yours,
“J. H. WATROUS.”
To quote a familiar expression, the reading of this letter produced a
sensation. Every eye was fixed on Nick, as he sat in his chair with the
missive in his hand, and pronounced the words in a clear voice.
It is not necessary to give the conversation that followed, for it was
a long one in which all shared, but late that afternoon Nick harnessed
up the old roan again and drove to the railway station with Herbert.
Hastily leaving the vehicle, they passed into the telegraph office,
where the city youth wrote out a telegram addressed to his father, and
it ran thus:
It is all fixed: Nick and I leave for Texas and the southwest
to-morrow. Good-by, and love to you and mother.
HERBERT.