REINFORCEMENTS.
HERBERT WATROUS was dumbfounded. He had stolen up the ravine and spent
some time in studying the campfire and the two strangers, and now, on
his return to where his pony had been tied, the animal was gone. While
he was acting the spy, the same trick had been successfully played on
him.
But he roused quickly, and running a few steps in the direction of the
retreating horse and his captor, called:
“Stop, or I’ll shoot! You can’t steal my animal!”
It was an idle threat, for, in the gloom, he only knew the direction
taken by the man and beast, and his shot, therefore, must have been at
random.
“Shoot if you want to,” was the defiant reply; “but the flash of your
gun will give us the show to drop _you_!”
Surely he had heard _that_ voice before.
“Strubell, is that you?” he called, still hurrying forward, but with
his weapon lowered.
Two persons now laughed, and the well-known tones of the Texan called
back:
“You’ll have to practise a while, young man, before you learn how to
trail Indians and horse thieves.”
Delighted beyond measure, Herbert quickly joined the friends, whom he
had hardly expected to meet again.
“I was afraid you were killed,” said he, “and had no idea you were near
me. Where did you come from?”
“We have been following you most of the day,” said Strubell, “but your
horse went so fast we couldn’t overtake you, and, when you slowed him
down, we concluded to let you go ahead, while we learned what you were
driving at.”
“When you are at this business,” added Lattin, “you want to keep an eye
to the rear as well as to the front.”
The Texans had their own ponies with them, and, so far as could be
judged in the gloom, were suffering no ill effect from their sharp
brush with their enemies the night before.
“Why did you take my horse?” asked Herbert.
“We wanted to give you a little scare, but you came back sooner than
we expected. I followed after you, and, while you were viewing the
camp fire, I did the same. I walked in front of you on the return, but
your Jill was tied so fast that it took me longer than I expected to
unfasten him.”
“Did you see Belden at the camp up the ravine?”
“No; and you didn’t either, for he isn’t there.”
“Who are those fellows?”
“One is Jim-John the half breed, and the other a fellow named
Brindage—Homer Brindage, I believe.”
“They belong to Rickard’s gang?”
“Yes—two worse scamps never went unhanged; I was afraid you were going
forward to talk with them, and stood ready to stop you, if you made the
start.”
“Why, that’s exactly what I would have done, if Nick had been with
them,” said the surprised Herbert; “would they have harmed me?”
“You would have found out mighty sudden; they are the kind that shoot
first, and inquire afterward whether there was any reason for their
haste.”
While the brief conversation was going on, Strubell remounted his horse
and the lad did the same. Lattin had been in the saddle from the first.
“You had a fight with them last night?”
“How did you know that?” asked Lattin.
“I heard the sounds of your guns as well as theirs.”
“I guess not,” replied the Texan, “we didn’t have any scrimmage with
them.”
“But there was plenty of firing.”
“Nobody denies _that_, but I’m tellin’ you the truth, when I say we
haven’t traded a single shot with Bell Rickard or any of his men.”
Since the Texan had made this remark, Herbert expected he would follow
it with an explanation of the previous night’s experience. He did not
deny that there had been a fight, only that Rickard and his men were
not in it. With whom, therefore, were their shots exchanged?
Both Strubell and Lattin showed the same annoying reticence about
certain matters that they had displayed more than once before. Neither
offered a reply to the question that was asked by Herbert’s expressive
silence, which lasted for some moments.
A touch of impatience disturbed the youth. He felt like Nick when
similarly annoyed. If they chose to affect so much mystery, he was not
the one to gratify them by showing curiosity.
But a more important subject filled his mind. The fate of Nick Ribsam
outweighed everything else, and on that he was not to be denied all the
information they could furnish. Their help was needed and that without
delay.
“From what you have said, Strubell, there is no doubt that Rickard has
ridden away with Nick.”
“I agree with you that far.”
“Where has he gone?”
“How can you expect me to know any more about that than you?”
“But you _do_ know more. What do you suppose?”
“They are pushing toward New Mexico.”
“But that is hundreds of miles off.”
“That doesn’t hinder their riding that way more than it does us; they
may never get there, but I suspect they are aiming for that country.”
“Do you believe Rickard is an enemy of Nick?”
“There’s no doubt of it; that little affair last night, which he must
have explained to you, has stirred up all the ugliness in Bell’s
nature, and he is full of it.”
“What do you think he means to do with Nick?”
“I would like to answer that question,” said Strubell, who evidently
sympathized with his young friend; “but I cannot.”
“Do you fear he means to kill him?”
“I _hope_ not.”
“Heavens,” exclaimed the agonized Herbert, “and are we to sit here and
allow such a crime to be committed?”
“We are going to do our best to prevent it,” was the response of
Lattin, which struck fire in the hearts of the others.
“Yes,” spoke Strubell again, “that’s what we’re here for; but before
going further, I want you to tell me what took place after you left us
yesterday afternoon.”
“I can’t tell you all, though most of it.”
Thereupon, Herbert gave his experience with the norther, when for a
while he believed he was doomed to freeze to death, ending with his
search for Nick and the discovery, through the aid of his field glass,
that he was riding away in company with Rickard and his companions. He
had followed the party, doubting whether he could do anything to help
him, but determined not to stay behind while Nick was in peril.
“Well,” said Strubell, who, like Lattin, listened attentively to the
story, “you must understand that we shall never let up till we have
straightened out this matter. Rickard has started toward New Mexico,
and he means to get there with the boy; the two are riding hard at this
minute and will press their horses to the utmost.”
“But what is their purpose?” asked the mystified Herbert.
“What is to be gained by puzzling our heads over the meaning of things,
when we have the things themselves to deal with? I have my suspicion of
what Bell is driving at, but I must get a little further along before I
say what it is. Lattin disagrees with me, and a fellow doesn’t like to
find he’s mistaken. Let that go while we bend all our energies toward
righting the wrong.”
“It strikes me as strange that if Rickard is in such haste, he should
take the pack horses with him.”
“He hasn’t.”
“But they are not in camp,” said Herbert.
“No; he has taken them to some point not far off, probably on the other
side of the hills, where they will be left for Brindage and Jim-John to
take care of. You understand the object of this,” the Texan hastened
to add; “they want to give the impression that they are going slow, as
they would have to do if they kept the pack animals with them. That is
to throw dust in the eyes of Nick’s friends; but you can depend upon it
that it is not far from camp that they have left them, and they are now
devoting themselves to speed. You know that pony of your friend is as
fleet as any in this crowd.”
“There is no doubt of that; Nick is a good judge of horses, and he
studied him closely in San Antonio before buying him.”
“Well, Bell has had so many dealings in the same line that you can
make up your mind, when he trusts his worthless life on the back of an
animal, that creature must know something about grabbing ground.”
“That being so, tell me what your plan is, Strubell.”
“Now it happens that Baker and I know a little more about this part of
the country than Bell and his folks, though this isn’t the first time
they have traveled through it; they think this ravine is the only pass
through the hills, for a long distance, but there’s where they make a
mistake.”
“But what of that?”
“We’ll take a ticket over the new route.”
This odd remark caused a laugh from Lattin, who, unlike Herbert, caught
its whole significance.