A MOMENTOUS INTERVIEW.
"What can you compare the sound to?" asked Jack.
It was the next morning, and Ralph was relating his experiences.
"Well, it sounded like some one 'tap-tapping,' as well as I can explain
it," replied Ralph.
"Whereabouts?" asked Walt, leaning forward from the interested circle.
"I don't know. It seemed to come from everywhere at once."
"But it stopped right off when you hollered?" asked Pete.
"Yes. I didn't hear another sound."
"What do you suppose it could have been, Pete?" asked Jack.
"Dunno. Mexican woodpecker, maybe," grinned the cow-puncher, "or maybe
a little overdose of im-ag-in-at-ion."
"I tell you I couldn't have been mistaken," exclaimed Ralph hotly. "I
heard it as clearly as I hear your voice now."
At this moment the clank of the metal bar of the door falling announced
that the portal was about to be opened, and they all gazed upward
expectantly as the studded oak swung back. Two figures appeared. The
first was that of a Mexican carrying a big tray of steaming food and a
water-cooler. The other newcomer was the renegade cowboy, whom Pete had
recognized the night before.
"Well, they don't mean to starve us, anyhow," said Jack, as his eyes
fell on the food.
"Hum, poisoned, like as not," put in Ralph.
"I confess that I would dare even poison, such are my pangs of hunger,"
spoke the professor.
Pete did not say a word, but kept his eyes fixed on the renegade
cow-puncher.
"Nice business you're in, Jim Cummings," he growled. "Since when have
you become a cattle-rustling, tamale-eating greaser?"
"Now, see here, Pete, don't rile me," growled the other, a short,
red-faced man with bow legs and whiny voice. "What I'm doing is my own
business, and I reckon I can mind it."
"Yes, some folks don't mind what they do," observed Coyote Pete
grimly, "even down to associating with a bunch of cattle thieves and
horse-rustlers.
"There's a real nice specimen of the human toad," he went on, turning
to his companions. "That feller yonder, Jim Cummings, was once a decent
white man, punching cattle and shooting up the town on pay nights, like
a Christian. Now look at him----"
But Jim Cummings had turned and was running for his life. He could not
stand the raking cross fire of Pete's biting sarcasm. The Mexican who
had brought them their food followed him out.
"Why, we could have overpowered those fellows and escaped," said Jack.
"If we could once get our ponies, we'd give these ruffians a race to
the pass, and----"
"Yep, but that 'If' is a big word, sonny," said Pete grimly. "I reckon
you didn't see something I did when that door opened."
"No--what?" chorused the boys.
"Why, four of the handsomest looking rascals unhung parading up and
down with rifles. But let's get some of this grub down. That Black
Ramon is likely to pay us a call after grub time, and if I'd see him
first he'd take my appetite away."
Despite Ralph's gloomy fears of poison, they made a good breakfast,
although some of the dishes were so peppery and fiery they could hardly
eat them.
"If Peary could have had some of this at the North Pole," said Jack, as
he hastily swallowed several gulps of water.
"Or Doc Cook," grinned Walt.
"Yes, and _if_ we could be in Albuquerque right now," laughed Coyote
Pete.
As he spoke the door opened once more, this time to give entrance to
the Mexican leader himself. As if he was not inclined to take any
chances in trusting himself with the Americans, Ramon de Barrios was
accompanied by two other of his countrymen. He lost no time in coming
to the point.
"You boy there, Stetson," he said, pointing to Ralph, "how much is your
father worth?"
"I suppose about five million dollars," said Ralph wonderingly.
"Phew!" exclaimed Coyote Pete, "I didn't know there was so much money
in the world."
"Silence," growled Diego, looking at him from under his black brows.
"And your father loves you?" he went on to Ralph.
"Yes, of course," rejoined the Eastern boy.
"Hum! Well, if you ever want to see him again you must do as I say."
"What is that?"
"Write him a letter telling him to send a messenger with twenty
thousand dollars to a place I shall designate. If he does so I will let
you go free. If not--well----"
Black Ramon compressed his lips and gave Ralph a look not pleasant to
see. It seemed to promise ominously for the future.
"But what about my friends?" demanded Ralph.
"The same condition applies to Merrill, only in his case, as his
father is poorer, I shall be considerate and only demand ten thousand
dollars."
"You can have my answer now," spoke up Jack. "It is--'No'!"
"The same goes here," chimed in Ralph slangily, but with conviction.
"What, you won't do it? Boys, you must be mad. You do not know the
means I can use to enforce my demand. If you fear to cause your parents
alarm, I can cause them more suffering by sending them word that you
are dead."
The Mexican gave a smile of triumph as he saw a serious look cross the
boys' faces. The thought of what this would mean--of the grief into
which it would plunge their families, made them shiver, but neither
hesitated when the cattle-rustler asked once more:
"Well, what do you say?"
"Still--no," said Jack.
"That's me!" snapped Ralph.
"In any event," demanded Jack, "suppose we did sign, what would you do
with our friends?"
"That would concern me only," said the Mexican. "As for this
cow-puncher here----"
"Mister Pete De Peyster is my name," spoke up Coyote Pete, caressing
his yellow mustache.
"Well, De Peyster, then, I have an old score to even up with you----"
"Oh, you mean about the time I snaked you off your horse when you were
going to ill-treat a pony," said Pete. "Yep, I reckon the bump you
landed with must have left some impression on your greaser mind."
Black Ramon stepped forward. It looked for a second as if he was going
to strike the venturesome cow-puncher, but instead he restrained
himself and remarked in a calm voice, even more terrible than a raging
tone would have been:
"As you are in my power to do as I like with, I will not discuss the
matter with you. I will think it over. You know I am good at thinking
up original punishments."
Jack shuddered at the level, cold-blooded tones of the man. Some of the
most terrible tales of the border had to do with the fiendish tortures
thought of by the man before them. But Pete was undismayed, at least
outwardly.
"Anyhow, Ramon," he said, "you ought to get somebody to touch off your
dynamite who will be on the job when wanted. That fellow you had on the
battery at the bridge must have got cold feet at the critical moment,
eh? If he had touched off the charge at the right time he could have
blown us all to Kingdom Come. As it is, Mr. Merrill and Bud Wilson are
safe, and sooner or later they'll take it out of your yellow hide,
whatever you may do to us now."
Now Pete had an object in talking thus. He wanted if possible to find
out what had become of the ranch party when the bridge was blown up.
If he expected to learn anything, however, he was disappointed, as the
Mexican was far too crafty to be led into so easy a trap.
"Oh-ho, you are trying to draw me out to learn what became of your
friends," he grinned. "Well, what if I should tell you they were blown
up?"
"Wa'al, personally, I'd say you were an all-fired liar!" drawled Pete.
"Before long, what you say will not matter," snarled the Mexican, "you,
or the boy Walt Phelps. I owe your father a grudge," he continued,
turning to the red-headed ranch boy, "and I mean to avenge myself with
you."
Walter gazed back at the wretch as calmly as had Pete. He said nothing,
however. He did not wish to betray by even a quaver in his voice that
his feelings were in a state of tumult.
"As for you, you bony old man," said the Mexican, turning to professor
Wintergreen, "I have a mind to marry you off to an old Indian squaw,
and keep you 'round here as our medicine man."
"In that case I know the medicine I should prescribe for you," said the
professor calmly.
"What, if you please?" asked the Mexican, with mock humility.
"Six bullets in the region of your black heart," snapped out the man of
science.
"Bully! Good for you!" yelled Pete, capering about and giving the
professor a slap on the back that sent the savant's spectacles flying.
"I will give you boys till to-morrow to think this over," said the
Mexican, deciding, apparently, not to tamper any more with such an
edged tool as the professor. "In the meantime, I have decided to
separate you. Merrill, you and this cow-puncher I shall confine
elsewhere; you are too dangerous to leave with the rest of them."
He gave a shrill whistle and instantly ten men appeared from the door.
Under Black Ramon's directions they bound and blindfolded Pete and Jack
Merrill.
"I have a place where I keep such firebrands as you two," said Ramon
in his most vindictive tone, as amid exclamations of dismay from their
companions the cow-puncher and the ranchman's son were led from the old
chapel.