SPANISH JOE DROPS A CLUE
"Where can he be, Frank?" cried Bob, after they had been climbing for
several minutes up the side of the rough mountain, almost groping their
way, such was the darkness around them.
"Listen!"
"Help! Nick, this way, quick, or I'll go under!" came a shrill shout,
only a little way above them.
They started for the spot; but before they had taken half a dozen steps
once more the thunderous sound was heard; and under them the mountain
quivered. As the boys were not more than human, it was only natural
that they should halt until the convulsion had passed. Bob could not
help clutching a spur of rock as though he feared that something
dreadful was about to happen.
As the roaring noise began to die out the boys caught the cries of
Spanish Joe once again. He seemed to be nearly frantic with fear, and
was calling upon his cowboy crony not to forsake him in his extremity.
"It's going to tumble on me the next shake! Hurry, Nick, or I'm a
goner!" they heard him pleading.
"Whatever can have happened to him?" asked Bob, awed by the exciting
incidents by which they seemed to be surrounded.
"I reckon he's caught in some sort of trap, judging from his talk,"
Frank sent back over his shoulder; for both of them were climbing
upward as rapidly as the conditions allowed.
It was no wonderful feat for Frank to make straight for the spot where
the loud voice came from. He had located it; and even when Joe ceased
calling for a minute or two, Frank was able to continue right on.
Apparently the cowman had heard some sound that told him of their
coming. That accounted for his silence, since he was listening
eagerly. And of course he fully expected that it must be Nick Jennings
hastening to his assistance, perhaps with Peg at his heels. At least
his words would indicate as much, when he cried again.
"Hurry, boys! There ain't any too much time. This way, right straight
ahead! Oh! I'm in a hole, I tell ye. Ye ain't stopping, are ye?
Come on! come on!"
They were now close to where the speaker must be located. Frank was
already straining his eyes to make out his figure, so as to get some
idea as to the nature of the new task that confronted them.
He presently could make out some object that squirmed and tugged
between groans.
Then he knew that his first guess was probably correct. Spanish Joe,
in making his way along over the rocks, had in some way managed to
catch his foot in a crack, and was unable to get it out again. Perhaps
the more he struggled the firmer it became fastened. And, considering
the surroundings, his fright could hardly be wondered at.
So Frank crept up alongside the prisoner of the rock.
"It's my leg, Nick," cried the man, eagerly. "I can't get it loose and
I've twisted and pulled till it's near jerked out of the socket. See
if ye can't do somethin'. Every time she shakes, that rock up there
just starts to drop down on me! If it comes I'll be smashed."
Frank knew Spanish Joe. The man from across the Rio Grande had worked
on the Circle Ranch for many months, until he was discharged after
being caught in the suspicious business of conveying information to the
cattle rustlers.
"Wait 'till I strike a match, so I can see what things look like,"
Frank said.
And as the match suddenly flared up the dark-faced Spanish-American
stared with astonishment into the countenance of the one who had come
in answer to his frantic calls for assistance.
"You, Senor Frank?" he exclaimed.
"Sure," replied the rancher's son, as he bent over to examine the way
in which the prisoner's foot had become caught.
Although the match only shone for a few seconds, Frank's quick eyes had
sized up the situation.
"How is it, Senor Frank; can you get me out, _camerado_?" asked Joe,
with a quiver in his voice.
Something of a desperado the man might be under ordinary conditions;
but just then, when facing death, he proved very tame indeed.
"I reckon I can, Joe, if that tottering rock up there only holds off
long enough. Let's hope it will. Now, do just what I tell you; and
when I say pull, again, get busy for all you're worth!"
While Frank was talking he had been manipulating the foot of the
Mexican, who had worked so long on American ranches that he had lost
much of his national ways, though retaining a few of the
characteristics of dress that always distinguish his kind.
Frank himself was not wasting time. He did not like the looks of that
over-hanging rock any too well. It seemed to be about ready to crash
down, and when it did come the result would be disastrous to anything
human caught underneath; for it surely weighed many tons.
"Now, draw easily at first, and then increase gradually," Frank said.
"I'll hold onto the foot, and keep it in this position. I think that's
the way it first slipped into the crack!"
Spanish Joe eagerly obeyed. He groaned several times as he felt his
leg hurt, but desperation lent him new determination; for if this
attempt failed, as others had done, he believed that he was doomed.
Suddenly the foot came free. Joe fell over on the ground, but his last
groan turned into a cry of delight. It was almost comical to see how
quickly he rolled over several times, so as to get away from the danger
zone.
Frank, turning, clutched his companion, and also drew him back. It was
none too soon, it seemed. As if the release of Spanish Joe might have
been the signal for the groaning mountain to once again take up its
strange action, they felt the quiver with which all the performances.
seemed to begin. Then the grumble commenced, rapidly advancing into a
fearful stage, until Bob could feel himself trembling violently because
the rocks under him were moving.
"There she comes!" cried Frank.
His words were drowned in a deafening crash close by. Had Peg Grant
been there he must have believed that the top of the mountain had blown
off, and that fire and boiling lava would immediately begin to pour
down the sides. But Bob had not forgotten about that swaying rock.
And he understood that it had fallen with a crash just at the spot
where the three of them stood a minute before.
"What a narrow escape!" exclaimed Frank, after the clamor had in some
measure died away again.
"Oh! I should say it was," echoed Bob, feeling quite weak as he
realized what must have happened to them had they not gotten away in
time.
"How about your leg, Joe; can you walk?" asked Frank, turning to the
cowman, who was scrambling to his feet close by.
"Seems like I can, Senor Frank. But it was a close call for Spanish
Joe. Only for you coming, where would I be right now? Let us get away
from here!" exclaimed the man, limping around as he tried his crippled
limb.
"You are free to go, if you want, Joe," remarked Frank; "but Bob and
myself mean to stick it out. We came here to learn the cause of all
this racket, and we'll do it, or know the reason why."
"Excuse me, _companero_, I know when I have had enough. This mountain
is surely bewitched. There must be an evil spirit living inside. Do I
not know it? And even the door is guarded by demons that spring at a
man and tear him. My clothes, once so handsome, Senors, are torn into
tatters, just because Joe, he was fool enough to step into that black
opening above!"
Frank started as he heard the Mexican say this. It seemed to him that
possibly here was a clue worth following up.
"Tell us what you mean, Joe," he asked, quickly. "What black opening
did you try to enter; and what happened to you, _amigo_? We have done
you a service, saved your life, perhaps. In return, tell us this."
"It is little enough, Senor Frank. Up above, not more than seventy
feet from here, lies a hole in the ground. I was looking for shelter
from the storm, because Senor Peg wished it. I entered. Hardly had I
taken ten steps than something flew at me. I think it was a demon, for
it had sharp claws, and I thought I could smell brimstone and sulphur.
Just then the mountain yawned, and what with the terrible noise, and
having to fight off that unseen enemy, I climbed out of there fast, but
with all my fine clothes ruined. That was why I came down the side of
the mountain in such haste that I caught my foot. I thought that fury
was chasing me. Nothing in this wide world could tempt Spanish Joe to
go back there. The storm, it is a joke besides that terror of the
darkness!"
If he expected to alarm Frank, the Mexican cowman mistook the character
of the boy. Frank believed that the fellow's fears had made him
imagine more than half of what he declared had happened to him.
"Well, we leave you here, then, Joe," the boy remarked, sturdily;
"because we're going to find that cave, and see what lies inside it.
If you want to come along, all right; if not _adios_!"
He turned and started to climb, Bob tagging at his heels. But Spanish
Joe could not bring himself to accept the invitation. He looked after
the disappearing figures of the two saddle boys, and shook his head.
"No, not for Joe," he muttered. "He knows when he has had enough.
Money could not drive him to enter there again, and meet that unseen
thing. Out here the danger can be understood, but Joe he takes off his
hat to the young Senors; for grit they surely possess. _Adios_, Senor
Frank; but I doubt much whether we ever meet again."
But staunch of heart, Frank was leading the way upward, determined to
accept of the challenge which the cowboy's due seemed to throw at his
feet.