ANOTHER FRIEND
"Do you not think, Senor Darlington, that it is now safe to start?"
inquired the Spaniard, who was fearful of bloodshed, not quite
understanding the boys.
"Certainly," responded Jim, "we will get Don Fernando down from his
perch and proceed."
This proved to be an easier task than getting him up. His master lowered
by the rope to his side, one scrambling leap and the horse was on the
firm wet sand of the beach, almost knocking his master over in his
eagerness to be on safe footing again. Don Sebastian now showed the gay
side of his nature, as he vaulted into the saddle.
He swung his hat wildly, the blood mounting to his face, and the horse
seemed to feel the sting and excitement of his master's mood, as he
pranced, danced and caracoled upon the sand and ended up by bowing in
unison with his master to the two American lads, who were looking on
with interest and amusement.
Then the party made their way quickly along the curve of the beach and
went around the fateful headland with perfect safety, while quite a
distance out among the hidden rocks snarled the defeated ocean. Then
Caliente heard them coming and he quickly raised his head, neighing in
welcome to Jim and his comrade, Don Fernando.
Jim gave him a vigorous hug for more than ever he was fond of his
faithful horse. In a few minutes he had him saddled and away the three
horsemen thudded in a swift gallop down the beach. The horses fairly
flew, the wind of their speed tossing their manes back. It was cool
beneath the fog laden sky and the refreshing sea air seemed to give the
horses tireless endurance.
Soon three miles had spun backwards under their hoofs and the boys were
filled with the joyous excitement of the run. It seemed now that every
stride of the horses was bringing them nearer to the hoped-for rescue of
Tom and Juarez. And this was an incentive to their energy.
"Here, friends, is where we branch off from the beach," cried the
Spaniard.
Then he turned his horse to the left and headed straight for a wooded
spur that extended from the range to the shore. In a short time the
three came to a well-traveled trail and were soon riding through the
semi-dusk of the woods. For two miles they went up a steady grade.
Then they rounded the summit of the wooded ridge and saw stretching far
below them in the indistinct dusk, a wide plain bounded on the West by
the blue darkness of the level sea with its rim of yellow sand.
"We will soon be at the home of my friend, Senor Valdez," said the
Spaniard, "where we will spend the night."
"I'm a lovely looking object to present itself in a civilized home,"
protested Jim, "I look like a tough who has been in a bar-room rush."
"You are my brave friend," said Senor Sebastian, quietly, "and will be
welcome."
Jim blushed, at least one side of his face did, the other was already
too deeply colored to show any emotion, and he grinned sheepishly.
Before he had time to reply they swept into an open driveway, carefully
sanded, and drew rein in front of a long, low white adobe house, that
from its mountain terrace looked over Plain and Sea.
Out came Senor Valdez to receive them, a stately Spaniard, who furnished
the boys with an ideal of perfect courtesy ever after. To the end of
their days they remembered their first visit to the home of Senor
Valdez. How they did enjoy their dinner that evening in the long,
pleasantly lighted dining-room.
It was an excellent meal, with delicious soup, a salad garnished with
peppers of the Spanish style, and garlic. Jim and Jo had never tasted
anything equal to it. Besides there were frijoles and lamb, while the
dessert was some slight and delicate confection of jelly and cream, made
by the hands of the Senora Valdez.
"I feel wicked sitting here and eating this fine meal," said Jo,
addressing Jim in a low voice, "when Tom and Juarez are being ill used
and probably starved."
"Well," replied Jim, who was always practical, "I think it is better to
eat, and to keep my strength up."
"I guess it won't fail," commented Jo slyly.
The boys bore themselves well, and without any diffidence though Jim had
a whimsical recollection of his bruised side face and blackened eye, and
he tried to keep it turned from the Senora Valdez, the fragile little
woman who sat at the end of the table opposite her husband. She had snow
white hair, parted low over her ears and the pallid face was lined with
years. Very gentle was the Senora Valdez, but she had in her time beheld
scenes of carnage and terror, so Jim need not have worried about his
bruised face. But the wise old lady noticed his solicitude and
understanding, was the more gracious to the young Americano because of
it.
That evening they sat on the piazza, that looked out towards the sea,
the Spaniards smoking and Jim and Jo enjoying the music of a guitar
played by a Mexican in a dim corner of the verandah and the boys heard a
bit of important news.
"There was a mysterious ship put into shore several miles South of here,
late last night, Senor," said their host, "one of my shepherds brought
me word."
"The first scent of the trail," cried Jim eagerly. Then the Senor
Sebastian explained to his friend more fully the objects of their
search. Immediately the listener was deeply interested. Then he sent for
an Indian, one of his trusted men, to come to him, and gave him minute
instructions about some matters. Without a word the Indian turned and
disappeared in the darkness, and in a short time there came the sound of
a horse galloping full speed down the road.
"Tomorrow, Senor Darlington, this Indian will meet you at a point near
the Puebla de los Angeles, which my friend knows and he will have all
the information there is obtainable as to the location of this ship and
its crew," thus spoke the Senor Valdez. Jim thanked him with deep fervor
for his unusual kindness, but the Spaniard made light of it.