THE BARBED WIRE
Just at that moment was heard the hoarse voice of Captain Broom booming
through the darkness outside.
As Cales turned about, some furry animal sprang past him dashing between
his legs and nearly upsetting him.
"On deck, you scoundrel, come out of there," called the Captain.
"Aye, aye, sir," came the reply of Cales in a strangely weak tone,
though he was now more concerned by the possible penalty to be meted out
by the Captain for disobedience of orders, than by thought of the
undetermined occupants of the cave. If it were a cat it was certainly a
good joke on old Pete. This was, had they but known it, the swift
solution of the mystery.
Oddly enough the Captain said not another word, a fact suggestive to
Cales that there was something amiss in the cave and the little company
at once took up their line of march. Captain Broom was in the lead,
followed by the mate, then Cales, with old Pete bringing up the rear.
Just as they started Captain Broom extinguished the lantern and they
took up the trail in total darkness. Every precaution would now be
necessary for they would soon be in a region where the very name of
Broom was execrated with bitter hatred, and every bush would grow a
poniard if his whereabouts were known.
It was evident that the skipper was as good a guide on land as he was a
pilot at sea, for he led his little party at a steady gait by a winding
cow-path through the thick undergrowth. He doubtless knew this region
thoroughly, for he had made more than one raid in this locality.
It was soon to be determined, however, that they were not the only ones
abroad that night.
They had walked in silence for some time, well on to two hours, when
they came to an open space, with the irregular form of a live oak on the
southeast corner. Then Captain Broom stopped suddenly, his keen eyesight
which no darkness could baffle had discerned some object moving out from
the shelter of the oak tree.
It came slowly with uplifted black arms and white hair falling around
its face. There was a terrible intensity in its advance across the open
space, withal that it moved so slowly. The figure stopped directly in
front of Captain Broom.
"Get out of my way, you hag," he roared, but for the first time in his
life a certain tremor crept into his voice. Perhaps he was growing old.
He drew back his arm as though to strike the woman in his path.
As he did so Jack Cales stooped and picked up a round rock at his feet,
intending to hurl it, not at the woman but at the skipper, for he alone
of the party divined the possible cause of this poor woman's dementia.
But his interference was not necessary for it seemed as though the
Captain's arm was paralyzed. He declared afterwards that some invisible
hand had seized his arm.
Then, in a loud, wailing voice the woman put a curse upon the slayer of
her husband, for this spectre was none other than the Senora Sebastian.
It was terrible to hear her and it must have sent a shiver into the soul
of the hardy skipper.
When she had finished, the woman moved past them and vanished in the
direction of the ranch. For a full minute the line of men stood without
moving a step and in absolute silence, Captain Broom with his arm
upraised as he had lifted it to strike.
Then, without saying a word, he took the first forward step and the
others followed him through the darkness.
"Say, Cales," growled Pete in a low voice, "what was it you found in
that cave? My old timbers are shaking yet."
"Keep your old jaws shut," yelled the Captain, who had wonderfully keen
hearing, when anything was spoken that concerned him.
"How do you suppose the old man heard me?" mumbled Pete to himself. He
dropped back a pace or two, then whispered, "The old man must be crazy.
He is making direct for the Sebastian ranch."
"Do you reckon that these four boys he is looking after, are located
there?" asked Jack.
"I dunno," replied Pete, "you can calkerlate on one thing though and
that is that the skipper knows pretty nigh where those lads are. One of
his messengers, a one-eyed, twisted greaser, came aboard the other day,
and was gabbling in the Captain's cabin. Then the next thing I knew we
was under sail, and came kiting down to the cove."
Just then the party halted at the confines of a four strand barbed wire
fence. This was the first indication that they were entering the great
ranch property that formerly belonged to the Senor Sebastian, the
elderly man the Captain had made captive, and which was now the property
of his only son.
"Now, lads," said the leader of the expedition, "Here's a chance to make
yourself small. This yere barb is like a devil fish if it once gits a
holt of your panties--it won't let go."
"That's so, Captain," said the mate, a generally silent and saturnine
man.
"I reckon you know, mate," said the Captain. "The last time we was
through these parts, and that some considerable years ago, this same
fence got a holt of yer pants and wouldn't let go. I never heard you
talk so much and so earnestly in my life before. You want to be more
keerful this time."
The mate simply grunted by way of reply and, lying close to the ground,
he very gingerly and carefully worked his way under the wire and thus
escaped his mentioned former unpleasant detention. He then held the
lower wire up as high as he could until his chief had wiggled under.
Pete was the only one of the party who was seriously detained, for Jack
Cales had slid under as slick as an eel. But Pete's joints were old and
rusty and the venomous wire got a clutch on his coat and his pants.
"What's keeping you back?" inquired the Captain, gruffly, as Cales and
his comrade did not put in an immediate appearance.
"Pete has got caught, sir," said Jack.
"What are you doing there, you old barnacle?" inquired the Captain as he
came back to the fence.
There was a certain odd comradeship between the skipper and the old salt
who had been with him since his African days. Both were New Englanders
and had come from neighboring homesteads.
"Just resting, sir," replied the captive.
It certainly did have something of that appearance, for Pete had kept a
decisive grip on his old black pipe with his stubby teeth and was
puffing at it in apparent peace and resignation.
"Want me to git you a piller?" inquired the skipper, sarcastically.
"Thank ye, sir," replied Pete imperturbably.
Meanwhile the mate had been at work with deft fingers and he finally
succeeded in extricating the old man and putting him upon his pins.
"Now if ye are sufficiently rested," proposed the skipper, "we will hike
along."
This they did. Their way now lay between two stretches of fence that
enclosed a road not much traveled for there were only faint traces of
wheels in the turf. It was probably not a public highway but belonged to
the great ranch.
Everything seemed smooth sailing now, as there was no more barbed wire
to be immediately met but Pete soon made himself prominent again. He
was rolling along with that gait peculiar to a sailor when aboard land,
when he gave a sudden spring and clutched Cales convulsively in the
back, giving that individual a big scare.
"Dad burn it, boys. I've stepped on a rattler." An investigation was
made very carefully and Captain Broom quickly picked up a short piece of
rope.
"I'll rattle you," he cried, touching up the old man with the rope's
end.