CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

"No use trying to go any further to-night, Chunky."

"Where'll we stay, then?"

"Right here, I guess," answered Tad. "It's as good a place as we'll

find."

But to understand this, we must take up the fortunes of Tad and Stacy,

whom we left imprisoned in the hermit's cave.

After waiting for a full hour in the cave, following the hermit's blow

on the door, the lads not having heard anything further of him, had

renewed their whittling. After long and arduous effort they had

succeeded in making an opening in the wood sufficiently large to enable

Tad to push his hand through.

Before doing so, however, he made reasonably sure that the hermit was

not standing there with a club ready to bring it down with crushing

force.

Being satisfied on this point, Tad thrust a hand through. His upturned

hand had grasped the bar that held the door in place. Pushing upward

with all his strength he felt the bar give.

Stacy, with ready resourcefulness, began forcing up on Tad's elbow. In

a moment more they had the satisfaction of hearing the bar clatter to

the rocks. Yet one end of it had stuck in its socket, still holding

the barrier in place.

They tried their former tactics. Backing off, both lads rushed at the

heavy door. It gave way with a suddenness that they had not expected.

The boys tumbled out, each landing on his head and shoulders, then

toppling over to his back.

There was a lively scramble. They were up in a twinkling, fully

expecting to find the hermit standing over them. To their surprise,

they found themselves entirely alone. To their further surprise,

neither of their ponies was in sight when they stepped out on the rocks.

Upon examining the hoof prints a few minutes later they discovered that

one animal had set off on the back trail, while the other had

apparently gone in the opposite direction.

After a brief consultation they decided that they must start back on

foot. Without a moment's hesitation, the lads, laying their course by

Tad's watch, started pluckily toward camp, many miles away.

After a few hours night overtook them. They still had the moon,

however, and by its light they trudged along for two more weary hours.

Then the moon's light left them and Tad decided that it were worse than

useless to continue.

Absolute darkness had settled over the Desert Maze as the boys dropped

down, footsore and weary after their long tramp in the stifling heat.

"Got anything to eat?" asked Stacy.

"That I have, and a canteen of water besides. We have a lot to be

thankful for yet, Chunky. Haven't we?"

"I'll tell you after I try the bread," answered the fat boy.

Tad laughed merrily.

"Always a humorist, aren't you?"

"Except when I fall in somewhere," replied Stacy.

"How does the bread go?"

"Fine!"

"Aren't you glad you didn't eat it up back there in the hermit's cave?"

"Oh, I dunno. If I'd eaten it then, I wouldn't have to eat it now."

"Oh, Chunky, you're hopeless. I shall have to give you up----"

"What do you think has become of those ponies?" interrupted the fat boy.

"Guess they must have gotten away and gone home--at least one of them,"

answered Tad.

"Wrong."

"Why?"

"One went one way and the other another, didn't he?"

"Yes. What of that?"

"If they'd gotten away they'd both traveled together. One of them was

ridden away and I'm thinking the hermit was on his back. I'll bet he

carried my broncho off."

"You mean you think your broncho carried him off?" laughed Tad. "I

didn't give you credit for so much sense, Chunky. I guess you are

right at that. The ponies surely would have left together. Seems to

be our luck to lose horses. Guess my gun has gone, too, but I picked

up the rope back by the mountain."

"Glad I didn't bring my rifle along," chuckled Stacy. "I'll bet I'd be

throwing good-bye kisses after it now if I had."

"I don't understand what that old man meant by making us prisoners

unless it was that he wanted a horse to get out of the Desert Maze. If

that was his reason, I don't blame him," laughed Tad. "Mr. Parry did

us a real service when he advised us to leave our stallions back in

camp. They surely would have been gone by this time, and we never

could have caught them again."

"Yes; I can see Satan legging it for the hills," replied Stacy.

"Legging it is his strong point."

They had finished their slender meal by this time and drunk their fill

of water from the canteens. As a result, they felt better than they

had felt at any time during the past three days.

"We have a long, hot walk ahead of us to-morrow, unless they come out

to look for us, Chunky," averred Tad.

"Yes. And I love to walk," replied Stacy, with droll humor.

"Especially when the sun is one hundred and fifty in the shade, or

where the shade ought to be. If ever I come down in this baked country

again, I'm going to bring that sweet apple tree out of uncle's orchard,

even if I have to drag it all over the desert with me."

"Think we'd better make our beds and turn in?" suggested Tad.

"I guess. I'll take a drink of water first; then I'm ready."

In a few moments the plucky lads had stretched out on the still hot

ground, without feeling the least fear. They were too self-reliant to

feel any fear, and they had passed so many nights in the open that the

mysterious darkness of the outside world held no terrors for them.

They knew there was nothing to harm them.

Tad was beginning to doze off when Stacy nudged him in the ribs.

"What is it?" asked Tad sharply.

"I think the girl forgot to put a fresh pillow case on my pillow

to-day. The pillow feels awful rough."

"Oh, go to sleep. Dream all the funny things you wish to, but don't

bother me till daylight."

From that moment until long past midnight the boys slept soundly,

neither having moved since he lay down for his night's rest. Even when

the coyotes began to howl, off on the desert, the lads merely stirred,

only half conscious of what the sound meant. But when the howls

gradually drew nearer, Chunky cautiously opened one eye. The night was

so dark that he could not see anything about him.

The beasts drew nearer. Tad was awake now.

"Keep still, don't scare them until I give the word," he said in answer

to Stacy's poke.

Emboldened by the quietness, the coyotes kept creeping closer and

closer, their mournful howls increasing in volume every minute. All at

once Tad reached down for his rope. He lay still for a few minutes

until satisfied that the animals had not observed his movement.

Suddenly the great loop shot from his hand.

A quick, violent tug at the other end, a wild, frightened howl from the

cowardly beasts, and all but one, with tails between their legs, fled

over the desert.

"I've got one, Chunky," yelled Tad. "Quick! Help me here, or he'll

get away!"

It required all the strength of the two boys to hold the animal that

Tad had roped in the dark. Gradually they shortened up on the rope,

Tad standing in front of his companion until he felt the animal

dangerously near. Then he let out a swift kick. By good luck, it laid

the coyote flat.

Tad was upon the beast before, in its half-dazed condition, it could

rise. Together they tied the animal's feet, its jaws snapping at them

viciously before their task was completed.

There was no more sleep for the lads that night. They feared the

coyote would gnaw the rope in two, if left alone. All during the night

the boys were obliged continually to jerk on the line about its neck to

keep the beast from doing this very thing.

Morning came at last. Making a harness from a piece of the rope, they

bound up one of the animal's forefeet, just as Bud Stevens had done

with wild horses. Then they released the hind feet. Mr. Coyote hopped

about like a rabbit for a time, snarling and snapping, to their keen

delight. They felt no fear of him, though Mr. Coyote had several times

expressed a willingness to fight his captors.

After eating their remaining crumbs of bread, the boys decided to move

on. Tad, believing that he knew the direction to follow, did not wait

for the sun to rise. Yet, although they were not aware of the fact,

they already had strayed far from the trail.

"I'm afraid the coyote is going to be a drag on us, much as I should

like to take him along," said Tad.

Stacy begged to keep the animal, and Tad decided to try it. The next

question was, how to move it. It was finally decided that one boy

should lead the coyote while the other prodded it from the rear when

the animal lagged.

At noon they halted to rest, draining the last drop from their

canteens. Then they started on again, suffering more and more from the

heat as they proceeded. About the middle of the afternoon Tad halted,

gazing helplessly about him.

"Chunky, we're lost in the Desert Maze. I don't know where I am any

more than if I were in the middle of an ocean. I'm pretty nearly

exhausted, too."

"So's the coyote," comforted Stacy.

"But we've got to keep on going. My watch is missing. I must have

lost it where we slept last night. I can only guess at the direction

we ought to take. Have you any idea where we are?"

Stacy gazed at the sky meditatively.

"On a rough guess, I should say we were on the Nevada Desert."

"Oh, come on! Come on!"

Still clinging to the angry coyote, the lads took up their weary tramp.

The baking alkali burned their feet almost to the blistering point; the

burning, withering heat made their heads whirl; the desert began to

perform strange antics, while the halo that they had seen a few days

before again appeared before them, first whirling like a giant pin

wheel, then oscillating in a way that made them giddy.

"Chunky, I can't stand this any longer," cried Tad, suddenly sinking to

the ground. "I'm ashamed of myself to give way like this."

Stacy moved around to the sunny side of his companion, placing his own

body where it would shade Tad's head from the sun. The fat boy took

off his sombrero, unheeding the burning rays that were beating down on

his own head, and began to fan Tad with the hat.

"I don't believe I can go any further, Chunky. You are still in fairly

good shape and you'll be able to make the camp if you go on. Leave me

and make a try for it."

"You--you want me to go on without you? Want me to leave you here

to--Say, Tad, do you think I'm that kind of a coyote? I'd thrash you

for that if you weren't already properly done up. You'll feel better

when night comes and your head gets cooled off. In the morning we'll

make another attempt to get out of the Desert Maze. You lie still,

now."

Thus admonished, Tad closed his eyes. At last the sun went down, and

with its passing, came a breath of refreshing air. They inhaled long

and deeply of it. After a little, Stacy got up.

"Where you going?" demanded Tad, opening his bloodshot eyes.

"Going to tie up my dog, then go to bed."

Five minutes later both were sleeping the sleep that comes from utter

exhaustion of mind and body.

Stacy awakened first, his eyes opening on the burning blue above him.

After a few moments he rolled over on his stomach to gaze at the

coyote. Instantly something else attracted his attention. What he saw

was a crossed stick on a standard. The whole resembled a cross,

standing barely six inches above the ground.

The lad eyed the strange object inquiringly, then wriggled over toward

it.

"Maybe there's water here. I'll see," he muttered. Stacy began

digging industriously with knife and hands.

After a time the knife struck some hard substance. This, upon further

digging, proved to be a bottle. The boy pulled his find out quickly.

"There's a piece of paper in it," he exclaimed in surprise. "Guess

somebody must have thrown it off a sinking desert schooner."

Stacy drew the paper from the bottle.

"'To the lost on the Desert Maze,'" he read "That's me and the coyote.

'Water ten paces to the east. Grass Peak fifteen miles to the east.

Belted Range about eighteen miles west. Cross piece on stick, points

due east and west. A Traveler.'"

With a sharp glance at his sleeping companion, Stacy tramped off ten

paces. There being no sign of water, the lad began stamping about with

his heels. Suddenly the alkali crust gave way beneath him. One leg

went through. He felt it plunge into water.

"Y-e-o-w!" howled Stacy.

Tad Butler scrambled to his feet, rubbing his eyes.

"Water! Water! Water! I fell in!" shrieked the fat boy, dancing

about joyously. "I've found a key to the Desert Maze, and I've

unlocked one blind desert alley with my foot."

The lads drank and drank of the villainous, brown fluid. Then, after

having laved their faces and filled the canteens, they set out on their

journey. Grass Peak was the hill from which the Professor's pajamas

had been unfurled to the idle desert breeze.

Twilight was descending when two gaunt-eyed, hollow-cheeked lads, each

with an arm thrown about the other's waist for support, were described,

staggering across the Desert Maze. Behind then, at the end of a

lariat, slouched a disconsolate, cowardly coyote.

A great shout went up from the camp of the Pony Riders.

They dashed out to meet their exhausted companions. Hoisting the two

boys to their shoulders, they carried them triumphantly to camp.

Tom Parry, the guide, had been thrown by his pony stepping through a

crust on the alkali, and had lain all night on the desert. Next day he

had staggered back to camp, where he found his pony, and after a few

hours' rest had taken up his fruitless search again.

Stacy's pony in the meantime had come in. The boys never knew how the

animals got away, though from the fact that Tad's rifle was missing, it

was believed that the hermit had ridden the pony off, turning it adrift

later.

But the brave lads had found their way through the Desert Maze to camp,

having passed through hardships and perils that would have daunted

stronger and more experienced desert travelers.

Next morning the Pony Rider Boys struck their tents and broke camp. A

few days later they crossed the line into California, where, after

loading their stock and equipment into a large stock car, they started

for the East.

Yet, though their summer vacation was rapidly drawing to a close, the

Pony Rider Boys had not seen the end of their thrilling adventures.

Another exciting trip lay before them; one which was destined to linger

in memory for many years to come. The story of this, the end of the

Silver Trail, will be related in a following volume entitled, "THE PONY

RIDER BOYS IN NEW MEXICO."

THE END

Dave Darrin Series No. 3

By _H. Irving Hancock_

1 Dave Darrin at Vera Cruz

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