PETE'S YARN
They went along steadily through the darkness in an almost directly
easterly direction. Being now clear of the brush they could make good
time on the springy turf.
"How far are we now from the ranch, Pete?" inquired Jack.
"Too durn close to suit me," replied Pete. "I can't tell exactly for
these ranches are as big as all outside creation, but I guess we must be
as close as a mile to the buildings."
"I reckon the Captain is going to walk up to the front door and ask for
accommodations."
"Wouldn't s'prise me a bit, if he done that," replied Pete querulously.
"The old man ain't lacking in nerve. Back thar was the first time I ever
seen him hang back in my long experience with him."
"When the old lady was speaking her piece? Suppose I ask him how much he
made when he captured the Senor," suggested Cales, who had recovered his
flippant humor.
"I wouldn't git gay, lad," said old Pete, warningly. "She is just as
liable to haunt you in your black spells."
"Don't have 'em, uncle," replied Cales.
"You collect the material for 'em when you are young," said the old man
wisely, "and they come out of your bones like rheumatiz when you git
old."
"Somebody is coming back of us," suddenly whispered Cales.
"Take to cover, lads," ordered the skipper, who was as quick to hear as
the younger man. The only cover was a high and thick growth of wild
mustard growing alongside the fences.
Quickly they stepped from the open road into the shelter of the tall
mustard. They had not long to wait. There was the jingle of spurs and
the thud of horses' feet walking slowly along. Next came the voices of
men talking.
"It is useless, Senor, to try and find her, I fear," replied one man to
the other.
"It seems so," replied the other sadly. "My mother always seems to be
worse when the time of the year approaches that my father disappeared.
In spite of all our care she will escape."
They had now arrived at a point opposite where the free-booters were
hidden. The man who had last spoken struck a light and lit a cigarette;
the instantaneous glare showed the dark handsome face of the Spanish
type. There was the high-peaked sombrero, the striking clothes, the
intent face and then the light died suddenly out.
"Ah, Manuel," said the young man to his companion, "if I could only once
lay hands on that cursed Gringo," and he ground his teeth in fury,
unable to express himself.
"Humph, Gringo," grunted the Captain, disdainfully.
"Did you hear anything, Senor?" asked Manuel.
"Nothing."
"I was sure I heard something," asserted his companion. They had reined
in their horses and sat listening quietly for a few seconds.
"It was probably nothing but a calf by the roadside," said the Senor.
The other shook his head doubtfully, then they turned and rode on
towards the rancho.
When they were safely out of range, the party of pirates took up their
line of march once more.
"So the greaser took me for a calf," remarked Captain Broom. "If it had
been you, Jack Cales, there might be some excuse fer such a mistake."
"Aye, sir," replied Cales, glumly.
"Getting kind of close to the ranch, ain't you, Cap'n?" ventured old
Pete.
"I thought of leaving you there, Pete, while the rest of us corralled
those kids. You are getting too old for these long tramps."
No more remarks were heard coming from the direction of Pete, for he was
not at all sure but that the Captain might, in a moment of irresponsible
humor, do just as he threatened without regard to the consequences.
After they had gone on for a mile from the point where the two men had
overtaken them, Captain Broom led his party away from the road in a
southerly direction, once more undergoing the harrowing experience of
getting through the barbed wire fence. But this time Jack Cales was
especially detailed by the Captain to get old Pete through so there
would not be any unnecessary delay.
It was evident that they were getting into a different section, a short
time after they left the road, for they began going up and winding among
little rocky hills. At last they came to a stopping place. They climbed
up an elevation and sat on some rocks among a group of dark trees.
"Now, lads, take it easy," said the Captain, "ye have had quite a
footin' and when morning comes, there will be some more ahead and at a
faster gait."
"Gosh, Cap'n," declared old Pete, "It's the most walking we've done
together since the time we corralled the last bunch of niggers on the
west coast of Africa."
"We certainly made money that trip when we sold that cargo of coons to
the traders on that Palmetto Island below Charleston. But we will clean
up about as much money when we round up those four boys and twice as
easy. Tell the two lads about that trip, Pete."
The old sailor sat on a rock, and taking out his bag of tobacco filled
his short black pipe with one thorny thumb, then he commenced his
narrative, with the glow of his pipe lighting up his weatherbeaten face.
"Well, orders is orders, and the Cap'n wants me to tell this yarn. I
might just as well begin it, lads. I never knew any good to come to
sailormen cruising around on dry land any more than on this trip." He
cast a wary eye at Captain Broom, but that worthy merely grunted and
Pete resumed his story.
"Our clipper lay at anchor in a wide bay with only a couple of men on
board and the Captain, myself and six men trailing inland for to find a
village of naygurs that our guides had told us of.
"It certainly was hot and steamy going through the jungles and every
once in a while a big snake as large as my leg would crawl across our
path and rustle away into the undergrowth. Once I felt one of 'em
a-twisting and rolling under my foot like a big log that had came to
life. I guess I must have jumped twice as high as my own head and I lit
on the back of one of the naygurs that was guiding us.
"He didn't know what struck him; probably thought it was a tiger for I
sunk my hooks into his hide. He let out a yell and went ripping and
snorting through that jungle and me not having sense enough to let go,
until a grape vine about as thick as a manilla rope chucked me under the
chin and I fell flat on my back and I guess that naygur is still
running."
Here the captain who was evidently enjoying the narrative hugely, burst
into a volcanic roar of laughter.
"I can see yer yet, Pete, on that bounding buck of a nigger, and him
a-hiking through the jungle and a-yelling like a wild Injun."
"I remember you got out of the way mighty quick," said Pete, "when you
heard us a-coming behind you."
"It certainly was a curious spectacle," said the Captain, "but go on
with your yarn, Pete."
"The further we went into the jungle the worse it got. The mosquitoes
fairly ate us alive and they wern't the only cannibals in those woods by
any means. There was a tribe of man-eaters beyond the Big River and we
didn't try to capture any of them. They wern't our stripe of bacon.
"We went on for six days, with the monkeys chattering over our heads all
day and the mosquitoes serenading us at night. Talk about birds, there
was a whole menagerie of them and their colors beat the handkerchiefs
that these greasers wear around their throats and you can't get ahead of
that for color.
"One night we got in range of the village we were after and there was a
great pow-wow going on. There was a big fire in the circle of the grass
huts and some big black bucks were doing a dance around it. Just then I
saw--"
"Hold on, Pete," said the Captain in a low, gruff voice, "somebody is
coming our way."