THE SECOND RANGE OF HILLS.
BUT while riding across the level plain, Herbert Watrous did a good
deal of thinking, and strove hard to fix upon the wisest course to
benefit the missing Nick.
Now, as I have intimated, nothing could be clearer than the
foolhardiness of trying to outwit the criminals, or to aid his friend
by his own shrewdness. They had made a prisoner of the youth, who
Herbert knew was his superior in every respect, and could well afford
to laugh at the utmost he essayed to do.
Without attempting to answer the many questions that presented
themselves, he confined his speculation to one or two bearing directly
upon the important business on which he was engaged.
Admitting that Bell Rickard, the crooked dealer in horse-flesh, had
made a prisoner of Nick Ribsam, it followed that he held no intention
of doing him immediate harm. Had his anger been as deep and resentful
as supposed, he would have shot him down at sight, instead of taking
him on a long ride. Herbert shuddered at the thought that possibly he
meant to prolong his suffering and torture, as do the American Indians
in the case of their captives, and that his revenge would be carried
out that evening. This theory, however, was so violent that it caused
the youth less worriment than would be supposed. He could not believe
that Rickard held any such shocking purpose. This brought Herbert back
to his former belief that the frugal criminal was managing things with
a view of forcing a ransom from the friends of his prisoner. While he
saw numerous objections to the idea, he decided to act upon it. He
meant to ride straight into the camp of the thieves, and demand their
reason for what they had done.
If Rickard would agree to release Nick for a reasonable sum, Herbert
would gladly pay it. He had considerable money with him, and, if that
proved insufficient, he could give him drafts that would be honored in
San Antonio, Santa Fé, or San Francisco. It will be remembered that Mr.
Watrous had liberally provided for his son in this respect.
Should Rickard accept the proposition, he would still hold the whip
hand, in case he chose to betray both boys; but it was idle to
speculate. Time enough to face the varying conditions as they presented
themselves.
By the time this decision crystallized in the mind of Herbert, the
afternoon was half gone, and he had ridden a good many miles. He had
seen no water, and, though he allowed Jill to rest himself by walking
at times, yet he forced him to the verge of imprudence. Both he and his
master were thirsty and hungry, but had to wait a convenient season
before attending to their wants.
At intervals, he had raised his glass and studied the party, well in
advance, but, as he was on their trail, this was not necessary, and
a couple of hours passed without his doing so. He was so absorbed in
his thoughts that he rode at the easy, swinging gait which Jill could
maintain for a long time without fatigue, paying no attention to his
surroundings.
The afternoon was far along, and he was drawing near the ridge that
had seemed so near ever since starting, when he roused himself with
the thought that he must keep his senses about him, and cease the
speculating and daydreaming in which he had indulged so long.
His first natural act was to look ahead for the horsemen, but the
unaided eye could not see them. The helpful field glass was then
levelled, and he scanned the base of the hills from a point well to the
south, along his front, and a considerable way to the north, but was
surprised to observe nothing of them.
“They have ridden in among the hills, where they are out of sight, but
that will make little difference, as long as I stick to their trail——”
He checked his utterance in dismay, for, looking down at the ground, he
discovered that he was not on the track of the party at all. While rapt
in a brown study, his pony had left it, and the anxious eyes which
scanned the prairie on all sides failed to detect the first imprint of
a horse’s hoofs.
“Well, this is a pretty pass!” he exclaimed impatiently, as he reined
up; “I left it to you, Jill, not doubting that you would attend to
business; but, after all, it was my own fault.”
Reflection, however, convinced him that the case was not so bad after
all. He could not be far astray, and he decided to press on toward the
hills, and gallop along their base, until he struck the missing trail.
That which caused him anxiety was the lateness of the hour. The top of
the ridge already shut the sun from sight, and, ere long, night would
close over the scene, so obscuring the footprints that further search
must be hopeless.
It was this fact which caused him to touch his spur sharply against the
side of Jill, and force him to a pace that he would not have done in
his tired condition, but for the urgency of the case.
Jill responded gamely to the demand, galloping with a speed that
caused the still wind to whistle by the rider’s face. The hills were
so close that a half hour carried him to the base, and he once more
brought the animal down to a walk.
It was now a question whether he was too far north or too far to the
south of the point of entrance by the party in advance. If he should
err, there was not enough daylight remaining to correct the mistake; he
would of necessity be forced to wait until morning before going on.
Since he had to guess at it, he acted on the theory that he had struck
the ridge to the south. He therefore wheeled his pony to the right, and
touched him into a leisurely canter, while he kept his eyes fixed on
the ground, as it swept under the hoofs of the animal.
It was certainly remarkable that Herbert’s thoughts remained so fixed
upon what was in front that he gave little or no attention to the rear.
Once, it is true, he glanced back over the long space ridden during
the day, and noted that the ridge, which had been the scene of his
stirring experience of the previous night, was fast fading from sight;
but the survey was so brief and hasty that it failed to take in an
important feature in which he was directly concerned.
Better fortune attended his search than he anticipated, for he had
ridden only a little way when he struck the footprints of the horses.
It was still so light that he could readily detect them without
dismounting, but that there should be no mistake, he slipped from the
saddle, and, holding the bridle in one hand, walked several rods,
carefully studying the marks in the earth.
He was right. It was easy to see that six horses had passed that way
but a short time before. Two of them must have been the pack animals,
while the others included Nick Ribsam’s Jack, and the three belonging
to Bell Rickard and his two companions.
Their course along the eastern base of the hills showed the riders were
searching for a favorable point of entrance. This looked as if the
party was not fully familiar with the section, though it was by no
means certain this was so.
Herbert began to feel misgivings, as he observed the twilight deepening
into darkness, while the trail still kept the same course, varying a
little now and then to the right or left with the changing course of
the elevation.
By and by, the gloom became so pronounced that he drew his pony down
to a walk, and, leaning over the saddle, studied the ground with the
closest scrutiny. It was not long before this proved insufficient and
he again dismounted.
“It makes slow work,” he said, “but it is sure—well, I’ll be hanged!”
Again there were no footprints before him! The ground showed not the
least impression when he struck a match and stooped over.
“We can’t be far off the track, Jill; we must now take the back trail,
as the hunters say.”
Holding the bridle in his left hand, he began carefully retracing his
steps; but, instead of hunting for the path, he looked for the point
where it had turned in among the hills. This must be close at hand,
for the footprints were lost only a short time before.
He had advanced a little more than a hundred yards, when he observed an
opening among the stunted vegetation and bowlders wide enough to allow
a horse to pass through without trouble.
“This looks as if it might be the right place,” he said, stopping and
scrutinizing it; “we’ll soon find out.”
Another lucifer was called into play. He bent down, holding it before
his head; and, as the tiny flame spread, he uttered an exclamation of
delight. He had recovered the trail!