THE RANCHERO
They could not desert Juarez and they could not get far with him. It was
enough to stagger them and it seemed that they had reached the end of
their resources.
"If it wasn't such an open country," said Jo, "we might hide until they
had got out of range and then get to the nearest ranch."
"If they overtake us we can stand them off," saying this Jim reached for
his revolver. To his astonishment it was gone. Then he remembered he had
been disarmed by Captain Broom, and they were absolutely defenseless
unless they could depend on Missouri's heels which had furnished them
such active protection.
Finally they brought Juarez around so that he was able to sit up.
"Where am I?" he asked in a sort of daze.
"You will be all right in a minute, old chap," encouraged Jim, speaking
cheerfully, but he did not feel so.
"You bet I will," he assented feebly, but with invincible determination.
"What are you holding me for, Jim? Let's get at those fellows." It was
evident that his mind was not exactly clear yet. They got him on his
feet and he seemed better, though still very wabbly.
"There come those fellows," cried Jim, suddenly, with more of despair in
his tone than he had ever spoken before, no matter how hard pressed they
had been. But before there had always been something to do, but now they
were helpless. Jim looked hastily around for some weapon. All he found
was a small round stone.
With a yell of exultation, Jack Cales and the mate dashed down upon
them, followed by the Captain and old Pete. They had been able to follow
the distinctive mark of the mule's shoes in the soft earth until they
came in hearing of the boys' voices. Then they jumped upon them. They
were out for blood this time, for they had the boys' revolvers in their
hands, probably because they were better than their own.
Missouri, finding himself free, made off. Tom halted when covered by one
of the sailor's revolvers, but Jim dodged as the mate fired at him. The
lug of lead spattered the mud between his feet, the next second he was
off full speed through the fog, followed by fleet Jo.
The sailors soon gave up the useless chase, for there was no trail to
guide them, so they had to content themselves with half of their
original capture and they started for the cove where the Sea Eagle was
anchored as fast as they could go, though they were hampered by Juarez.
"Better leave him, Captain," urged old Pete. "He is nothing but a
nuisance."
"I'll have use for that fellow yet," said the Captain. "As for the other
lad, he won't feel so lively after a few days on shipboard."
This did not have a very cheerful sound for Tom and he was in anything
but a happy frame of mind. Still he had great confidence in Jim and did
not give up hope of being rescued before the coast was reached. It was
now getting towards daybreak, and the fog began to lift somewhat so that
they could see a distance of thirty or forty yards.
Captain Broom's gang had now left the region of the level pasture and
were coming to the brush section, fringing the coast, and beyond that
they reached the sand dunes. The nearer they came to the sea the more
depressed Tom became. The only thing that encouraged him was the fact
that Juarez began to seem like himself.
Let us now return to Jo and Jim, who had been so fortunate as to make
their escape. As soon as they were sure that the pursuit was at an end,
they slowed down to a walk.
"Well, they didn't give us much of a chase," remarked Jim.
"Plenty to suit me. What are we going to do now?"
"This fog is beginning to lift," said Jim, "and then we can take our
bearings. I want to locate this ranch the first thing, and then we can
get help."
"Here's a wire fence," announced Jo, "I reckon it's the one the old
geser cut."
"It surely is and a straight course north is our direction," remarked
Jim.
"Here are hills that look like those we rode through," said Jo.
"We will soon be there now," was Jim's cheerful comment "What's that? It
sounds like a dog barking." They stopped, listening intently, as the
sound came faint, but there was no mistaking it.
"I suppose it's some big hound, that they usually keep on these
ranches," said Jo, who was beginning to feel depressed from hunger and
fatigue, "and he will jump at us because we haven't any weapons."
But in spite of Jo's fear they hurried on in the direction of the sound.
In a short time, they came to a road between two barb wire fences, which
the reader will remember that the Captain and his crew took when they
were coming through the Sebastian ranch. But the boys struck it higher
up, and were soon in the pasture that sloped down from the ranch houses
toward the road.
Jim and Jo now heard the voices of men as well as the baying of the
dogs. The men were talking excitedly about the finding of one of their
number in the canyon tied and gagged, and it was evident that it was not
a good time for strangers to visit the ranch of the Sebastians.
But Jim and Jo were dulled to danger and did not care what risk they ran
and so they called to the men in a friendly Spanish greeting. There was
instantly a great hubbub, and two men charged down upon them, preceded
by a couple of fierce-looking mongrels. These came dashing for them with
red, gaping mouths. The boys defended themselves gallantly with two
stout sticks that they had picked up. Then the two Mexicans took a hand.
"Look out, Jo," cried Jim, who was ever on the alert. "That fellow is
going to throw his lasso." Jo dodged just in the nick of time, but this
gave one of the dogs a chance, and if Jim had not stunned him by a
resounding crack on the head it would have gone hard with his brother.
Just then another man appeared on the scene, attracted from the vicinity
of the house by the noise of the encounter. He came full speed on a
splendid sorrel. It was Juan Sebastian, a dark, handsome young man, a
true son of Spain.
"What's all this?" he cried as he rode up. "Here, Sancho, Jan, you
brutes, come off." The dogs slunk obediently to heel.
"We found those insolent Gringoes," said one of the men, "coming
straight for the Senor's house. We undertook to stop them."
"Senor," said Jim, bowing low and speaking in his best Spanish, "we are
sorry, my brother and I, to have caused this disturbance. We are
strangers and unfortunate, and we have heard of your hospitality,
Senor"--Jim bowed again. He was not so simple, after all.
The Senor Sebastian returned the bow with more grace than Jim could
command.
"I regret, Senor--" he hesitated.
"Darlington," added Jim.
"Senor Darlington, that you have been attacked in this manner, but there
has been a party of desperadoes that have been overrunning this part of
the country for the past two days, and they took one of my men and bound
and gagged him and so you see, Senors," a smile and bow completed the
Spanish gentleman's apology perfectly.
"We have just escaped, not more than an hour ago, from these same
desperadoes," said Jim. "They have taken my brother and friend with them
towards the coast."
"We will saddle and overtake them," promised the Senor, "after we have
had breakfast."
Jim was stunned by this gentle sort of procrastination.
"But, Senor," he said gravely, "we will not be able to overtake them if
we do not start immediately. Pardon my abruptness, but I cannot rest
while there are two of my party prisoners in the hands of this gang of
cut-throats."
"It is to be perfectly understood," replied the Spaniard with no less
gravity, "we will make haste, but first we will eat while the servants
are getting two of the horses ready for you and your brother."
This was not Jim's idea of making haste by a long shot, but he was
enough of a traveler to recognize that the ways of men and nations
differed and that nothing was to be gained by going against the grain
of a national characteristic. So while fuming inwardly, he was outwardly
quiet and composed. He argued, too, that it was not likely the pirate
gang would retain the captured prisoners. Later, when they were
themselves at a safe distance they would set free the others.
As they went towards the house, the Spaniard dismounted and walked with
them, giving his horse into the charge of one of the men, with
directions to bring two other horses to the house. There was an
unmistakable courtesy in doing this and the boys appreciated it. They
could not help but contrast their appearance with that of the Spaniard.
He was not gaudily dressed like a vaquero, but everything he wore was
possessed of a certain richness and was not lacking in color. He truly
was a Prince of the South in appearance as well as in courtesy.
Jim and Jo were disreputable beyond words. Their clothes were muddy,
torn and disheveled, their faces so grimed that it was hard to tell
their original color, and there were blotches of blood upon their
clothes as well as faces and hands. But, though they looked worse than
tramps, there was something straightforward in their manner and their
way of speech that the Spaniard was quick to recognize.
As they walked along the Spaniard explained that his household had been
unusually disturbed that morning. His mother, he said, was an invalid,
and had escaped from her attendant. Some mental trouble, he briefly
mentioned as the cause of the elderly lady's worriment. Evidently, he
did not connect the tragedy in his own life, in which his father's life
was sacrificed, with the boys' antagonist. His mother, he assured them,
had been found and was returned to her home.
The boys now had a good view of the house, as they approached it. The
fog having lifted, they could take in the whole situation. The structure
itself was of adobe, of the early California type, low, with broad
verandas, and built on four sides around a court with a fountain in the
centre, with fish in the basin, and grass around it. There were
beautiful rose-tree bushes with gold and red clusters growing over the
corners of the house.
From the verandah there was a beautiful view looking off over the
surrounding country. The house itself stood on a rise of ground that
sloped gently from the plain below. Back of it rose the mountains of the
coast range, while in the distance glittered the broad breadths of the
Pacific, shining like an azure floor. As far as eye could see was the
domain of this great ranch. It was, indeed, a princely estate, and one
of which the Senor Sebastian might well be proud. Those were the days of
romance and of charm in the land of Southern California.