FIGURING IT ALL OUT.
"Just hold your horses a bit, Tubby; you're going so fast I'm afraid
you'll break your neck," Rob told the fat boy. "Why, nobody ever saw you
half so excited in all your life as you are now."
"Well, who wouldn't be, when everything is rooting for us to make that
lovely trip down to the land of sunshine, where there is something doing
every minute of the time right now?" Tubby declared. "And all I hope is,
first, that this rumor about the school roof taking wings and blowing
away doesn't turn out to be a fizzle; and, second, that you will make up
your mind to go along with me, Rob. Because I'm banking on the rest
falling all over themselves to sneeze if only you take snuff. That
right, fellers?"
"You've got it down pretty pat, Tubby," chuckled Merritt.
"Yes," added Andy, "you know mighty well that if Rob and you say 'go,'
the rest of us couldn't be held back with wild horses. That is, always
providing our folks give us permission, and I think they will when they
know how much the trip means to your poor uncle."
"There, Rob, see that?" cried Tubby eagerly. "What's doing now?"
"Before I say a word one way or the other," Rob told him, "there are
heaps of questions I want answered. Perhaps you can tell us a part of
the story; but we'd have to see Uncle Mark, and hear the rest. Get that,
Tubby?"
"Sure I do, Rob, and you'll find me only too willing to accommodate all
I can. Fire away, now, and I'll try and put you wise to the facts," and
the fat boy threw himself into Rob's easy-chair, elevating one leg over
an arm, and assuming the air of a witness in the box ready to be
cross-questioned by the lawyer on the other side.
"Tell us something more about your uncle first of all," said Rob, just
as if he might have a long list of questions on a slip of paper, which
he meant to put to the other.
"About his life, do you mean, or just that part of it connected with
Mexico?" demanded Tubby.
"We haven't the time to stand for it all," observed Rob; "because such a
wonderful man as your uncle must have run across more queer things than
we read about in Baron Munchausen or the Arabian Nights, he's been such
a great traveler and explorer. So just strike in where he made up his
mind to settle down on a Mexican ranch, and sent to England to import a
fine breed of cattle to improve the native stock. That was how long ago,
Tubby?"
"From what he told me I guess it might have been six or seven years
back; but that doesn't matter so very much. He bought a big tract of
good land, and put up his ranch buildings; after which he got his stock
together and started raising the best brand of cattle ever known in
Northern Mexico, shipping his beef, on the hoof, of course, over the
border to the United States market."
"That was when Diaz was president of Mexico," Rob remarked. "Now, how
did your uncle get along with the Government at that time? I want to
know, because it's going to cut a big figure with us when we get down
there--if we ever do."
"Why, to tell you the truth, I don't believe Uncle Mark cared much for
President Diaz, because he had lots of trouble at times with the people
in power. And later on, when Madero went into Mexico to turn things
upside-down, I guess uncle helped him a whole lot. Anyway, I've heard
him say he admired Madero a heap, and that they were good friends. Why,
after Diaz lit out for Spain, Uncle Mark was so dead sure things would
run smooth down there that he left his ranch in charge of a man he
believed he could trust, and started on the trip to Africa that he'd
been staving off for ever so long. And he says he must have just missed
the news that Madero had been killed, and that another president was in
the chair. If he'd known that, he would never have made his dive into
the heart of Africa, but hurried back home."
"Then he looks on Huerta as anything but a friend; is that it?" asked
Rob.
"He's afraid the present Government is following along the same paths
Diaz made, and that everybody who was hand in glove with Madero must
come under the ban," Tubby went on to say with considerable importance,
as though he might be coining some of these phrases himself, when,
truth to tell, he only repeated them, parrot-like, after his uncle.
"Now, that's something we would have to know," said Rob. "But tell us,
has your uncle had any word from his ranch since he came back?"
"Not a whisper," Tubby assured him. "You see, things are in such a whirl
down over the border right now that letters never get to their
destinations; and as for a wire message being delivered, it isn't
possible in a year."
"Then Uncle Mark doesn't know whether he has any cattle left on his
ranch to-day, or if it's just a howling wilderness, with every beef run
off, and the buildings burned to the ground. Is that the way it stands,
Tubby?"
"Er--yes, I suppose it is," admitted the fat scout slowly. "And you see,
it's to find out the truth, for one thing, that he wants somebody to go
down there and cross over into Mexico. Then, if everything is lovely and
the goose hangs high, that messenger will be given authority to dispose
of every head of cattle so as to fetch as big a fistful of money back
here as he can."
Rob shook his head, while the other three who were eagerly watching his
face looked keenly disappointed. The signs seemed to point to an
adverse decision in the matter by the patrol leader.
"It appears to be even worse than what I called it first--a wild goose
chase," Rob presently pursued. "For months and months now there have
been all kinds of fighting around that section of country, if half we
see in the papers is true: first with the Government forces ahead, and
then the rebels clearing out everything, so that a hostile army couldn't
live off the land. It was just as Sheridan was ordered to do in the
Valley of the Shenandoah, you remember. If the army of Huerta didn't
carry off your uncle's prize stock, you can make sure the hungry rabble
of that rebel general, Villa, must have gobbled it up long ago."
"Oh! but there is where uncle says he has his strongest hold!" exclaimed
Tubby, his round face lighting up again with new hope.
"I'm glad to hear he's got a string out somewhere, then," Rob remarked.
"Suppose you tell us what you mean by that?"
"Why, he knows General Villa real well," Tubby went on. "Fact is, he met
him some years ago when he was only a bandit, fighting against the Diaz
Government, because they'd gone and set a price on his head. It's too
long a story to tell you now, Rob, but the fact is that my uncle, who
used to be a pretty fine surgeon once on a time before he got this
exploring bee in his head, saved the life of Villa!"
"He did, eh?" exclaimed the patrol leader, apparently beginning to take
new interest in the matter. "That sounds as though there might be a slim
chance for those herds to be left alone. Go on and tell us some more,
Tubby."
"Villa was badly hurt, and uncle took him to his house and nursed him
back to life again, knowing who he was all the while; because, as I said
before, uncle didn't have any too much love for the party that was in
power just then. And Villa told him he would never forget what uncle had
done for him; that if he could do him a favor any time all uncle had to
do was to speak. So that is what he's hoping will turn out in his favor;
that General Villa, remembering how he was treated so well at the ranch,
would put a guard over the place and keep his men from raiding it, under
the belief that uncle must return home before long. Oh, Uncle Mark is
building big hopes on the gratitude of the man whose life he saved long
ago!"
"I must say it does look some hopeful," Rob mused, as though trying to
convince himself along those lines; for a trip to the South did look
mighty alluring to him, if only he could believe it was not a foolish
errand that took them to the sorely troubled land of the Montezumas.
"And I forgot to tell you this," Tubby continued breathlessly. "Just as
you read so often in stories of the old-time days, the bandit Villa gave
my uncle a queer ring which he wears all the time, and told him that if
that ring was ever brought to him he would go far out of his way to help
the person who fetched it!"
When Tubby burst out with this new bombardment, Rob threw up his hands
as if he must capitulate on the spot.
"That seems to clinch matters like a nail driven through a board,
Tubby," he went on to say.
"Oh! then you mean you'll go; is that it, Rob?" exclaimed the fat boy,
scrambling out of the easy-chair, and landing on his feet with his short
legs spread out as though they were a letter A.
Rob smiled.
"It's too soon to settle the thing like that, Tubby; but I want to tell
you that after hearing all you've had to say, I must admit there's a
chance of my falling in with your scheme. It's a glorious outlook so far
as the trip goes. The trouble will be to get in touch with General Villa
with that country fairly swarming with guerillas and bandits of all
kinds, not to speak of the rebels themselves."
"What will you do about it, Rob?" pleaded Tubby. "Because you know time
is going to count for a whole lot with us. Just as soon as we know for
sure that there will not be any school till long after Christmas, we
ought to be starting. It's going to take some days to get down there,
and across the Rio Grande."
"Well, first, you must take us all to see your uncle so he can give us
more information. We shall need it all, depend on that," Rob told him,
laying one finger on the palm of his left hand as he checked things off.
"Then I want to talk it all over with dad, though somehow I don't seem
to fear any serious opposition from that quarter, because he's so good
to me, and has such a lot of faith in my being able to come out of any
scrape right-side up. Last of all, I mean to put it up to our
scout-master, Mr. Alec Sands, and get his advice."
Hampton Troop of Boy Scouts now had a regular scout master, as the rules
of the organization demanded. He was a bright young man of about
twenty-five, who, while not very well acquainted with the secrets of the
Big Outdoors, as were some of the scouts, did know boys from the ground
up; and he was deeply interested in everything that went for the
betterment of the rising generation. Some time before, Rob had received
his certificate from Headquarters in New York City, and was qualified to
serve as assistant scout master in the absence of the real leader of the
troop; for only a first-class scout may fill this position, and then
only after he has been endorsed by the scout commissioner of the
district, as well as the local council.
"Well," said Tubby, scratching his head dubiously, "I only hope, then,
that our Mr. Sands don't put the kibosh on the whole fine game by saying
there's too big a risk about it for us to undertake. I don't see why
that should be, when every day you read about scouts doing all sorts of
wonderful things,--rescuing folks from burning buildings, stopping
runaway horses at the risk of their lives, and such brave deeds that
get them medals from Headquarters. This means a whole lot to my uncle,
and to my folks; for whatever he owns will come to us if he should die;
and let me say this right now--if the rest of you back out, Tubby
Hopkins will make the try all by himself. You hear me talking, don't
you?"
"That sounds pretty strong, Tubby," remarked Rob, smiling, yet in secret
admiring the undaunted spirit that caused the stout boy to make this
positive declaration; "but suppose you take us right now to see your
uncle; that may settle it once and for all!"