"HAUL IN"
The jar of the fall had knocked out the Captain partially and Jim had
risen to give him the coup de grace, when he heard the rush of the mate
coming down through the fog. It was a strange sensation hearing your
enemy but not able to see him.
Then the mate plunged into view, a dark ball through the opaqueness. He
could not have stopped if he had so desired and it was evident that he
did not wish to. For, with lowered head, he came for Jim as he would for
an ugly sailor.
Jim stopped him with his shoulder and ripped in a right uppercut with
his keen hard fist that would have stopped the heart action of an
ordinary man, and it sent the seasoned mate back upon his haunches,
partially dazed. Feeling the Captain squirming back to life, he planted
a back blow with his heel in the latter's stomach that took the wind out
of the Captain's sails for the time being. The mate, a really hardy
individual, had made good use of the brief respite and, picking up a
heavy stick, came for Jim with it.
The latter dodged the blow aimed at his head and it glanced off his
shoulder. Then he closed with the sailor, struggling to put him out.
Three seconds more and Jim would have landed the proper blow, had not
Jack Cales arrived upon the scene under cover of the mêlée. Before Jim
could turn to meet this new assailant, a stone crashed against his
head--and the frontier boys had lost.
The Captain had now recovered sufficiently to get on his feet, and the
fallen Jim was kicked until the Captain himself called a halt.
"Wait till we get him on board ship, lads," he said, "and we will finish
this job."
"Better get the other two, Cap'n," advised the mate.
So they dragged the prostrate Jim to the foot of the trail near where
the drinking pool was and went to look for Juarez and Tom. They saw a
small black object crawling towards them through the fog.
"What's this a coming?" asked Jack Cales.
"Why, it's my Mexican ferret," said the Captain. "What's the matter,
Manuello?" he asked as he turned him over none too gently with his foot.
"The big Senor throw me over his head and on the ground. I think I
crack the world open," he explained. The Captain roared with laughter.
"Where is the rest of this dangerous gang?" he asked.
"I will show you," he said, struggling to his feet. The presence of his
master gave him strength and confidence. "This way, Senor Captain."
He brought them to where Juarez lay upon the ground, partially held up
by Tom, who had been crying and endeavoring to bring his comrade back to
consciousness from the ugly blow that the Mexican had given him. I am
sure that none could blame Tom for tears upon this occasion for it was
calculated to try the heart of the stoutest.
"Why, this boy looks like an Indian," said the Captain regarding Juarez
closely.
"He lived with the Indians when a boy, Senor Captain," volunteered the
dwarf, who by subtle means of his own had become possessed of the
history of the four boys.
"He don't seem to be much more than a boy, now," said the Captain. They
had not paid much attention to Tom because he seemed a mere kid, but the
hunchback was not to be caught napping, for he had worked around back of
Tom, and as the latter aimed his revolver at the Captain, having worked
it cautiously out of his holster, the dwarf grabbed him in the nick of
time else the expedition would have lost its head.
Instead of being infuriated as one might have expected, the Captain was
decidedly amused at the temerity of the youngster, for that is all Tom
appeared to him, and, therefore, he did not hand him a beating.
"The nerve of the little rooster," guffawed the Captain. "I'll make a
real pirate out of you."
Tom struggled wildly, but it was no use, as Jack Cales and the mate
disarmed him. Just then there came a loud yell from up the trail.
"Haul in, Cap'n!" It was Old Pete's well known and melodious voice.
"Jack, go and see what the old cuss wants," ordered the Captain. "I
expect that the lad up there is trying to kidnap Pete."
When Jack arrived on the scene, he found that the Skipper had guessed
right. For Jo had been playing possum and was not nearly so badly hurt
as he had appeared to be.
He came near escaping from his keeper and it was only by a quick forward
lunge that Pete had grabbed him and then occurred a short struggle in
which Pete had called for help and just as Jo had wrestled himself
loose, Cales appeared and grabbed him. It took both Pete and Cales
quite a while to subdue him.
Finally it was accomplished and they made him go down the trail, one on
either side. At the foot of the incline he saw the bruised and battered
form of Jim lying on the ground and a big lump came into his throat.
"You fellows will pay for this," he said, rendered desperate by the
sight of Jim. But his captors only laughed, not realizing that the
Frontier Boys were apt to keep their word.
Then they joined the main gang and Jo saw to his dismay that Tom and
Juarez were in the coils as well as himself and that Juarez, too, had
been laid out and appeared dazed and only partially conscious of what
was going on. Thus there was little hope of escape with the two leaders,
Jim and Juarez, done for.
"Better search these beggars for their money, Captain," suggested the
mate.
"It hadn't slipped my mind," replied the Skipper.
Now the money and the jewels that the boys had found in Mexico were in
leather belts around their bodies. These were soon in the possession of
the Captain, but the crew knew full well that they would receive their
share and thus it was that the Skipper gave promise of living to a ripe
old age instead of being murdered for his money.
"It's about time to make a start, Cap'n," announced the mate, and the
Captain consulted his watch by the light of a lantern. He found that it
was half-past eleven.
"We won't be so long going back," he said. "We will use their horses."
This was easier said than done, for when any of the crew approached
Caliente, that noble animal became transformed into a tiger and as he
came for them with bared teeth or whirled and kicked out with his heels,
they decided that discretion was the better part of valor and they left
him alone. Sailors at best are not very clever horsemen.
"Let me have a chance and I'll quiet him for you," volunteered Jim
gruffly. "I don't want to see you poor fellows eaten alive."
"My lad," said the Skipper solemnly, "I'm no spring chicken and you
can't catch me with any such chaff."