A FIERCE FIGHT.
The boys glanced at each other in blank astonishment. As for Professor
Snodgrass, he was too occupied with chasing a little yellow tree-toad to
pay much attention to anything but the pursuit of specimens.
"We seem bound to cross the trail of Noddy sooner or later," remarked
Ned. "Well, if he's ahead of us he can't be behind, that's one
consolation."
"Will the honorable señors be pleased to enter my poor inn?" spoke the
Mexican, bowing low.
"I suppose we may as well stop here," said Jerry, in a low tone to his
companions. "It looks like a decent place, and it will give Noddy a
chance to get a good way ahead, which is what we want. But I don't see
what he means by going on when it will soon be night."
The auto was run under a shed, its appearance causing some fright among
the servants and a few travelers, who began to mutter their prayers in
Spanish. The boys, escorted by the Mexican, then entered the hostelry.
It was a small but decent-looking place, as Jerry had said. The boys
were shown to rooms where, washing off some of the grime of their
journey, they felt better.
"Supper is ready," announced the innkeeper, who spoke fairly good
English.
"Where is the professor?" asked Ned, as the boys descended to the
dining-room.
"The last I saw of him he was climbing up the tree after that toad,"
answered Bob. "But here he comes now."
The naturalist came hurrying into the room, clasping something in his
hand.
"I've got it! I've got it!" he shouted. "A perfect beauty!"
The professor opened his fingers slightly to peer at his prize, when the
toad, taking advantage of the opportunity, hopped on the floor and was
rapidly escaping.
"Oh, oh, he's got away!" the professor exclaimed. "Help me catch him,
everybody! He's worth a thousand dollars!"
The naturalist got down on his hands and knees and began crawling after
the hopping tree-toad, while the boys could not restrain their laughter.
A crowd of servants gathered in the doorway to watch the antics of the
strange _Americano_.
"There! I have you again, my beauty!" cried the professor, pouncing on
his specimen in a corner of the room. "You shall not escape again!" and
with that he popped the toad into a small specimen box which he always
wore strapped on his back.
"Tell me," began the innkeeper, in a low tone, sidling up to Jerry,
"is your elderly friend, the bald-headed señor, is he--ah--um--is he a
little, what you _Americanos_ call--er--wheels?" and he moved his finger
with a circular motion in front of his forehead.
"Not in the least," replied the boy. "He is only collecting specimens
for his college."
The Mexican shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands in an
apologetic sort of way, but it was easy to see that he believed
Professor Snodgrass insane, an idea that was shared by all the servants
in the inn, for not one of them, during the adventurers' brief stay in
the hotel, would approach him without muttering a prayer.
"I wonder what we'll have to eat?" asked Ned, as with the others he
prepared to sit down.
The innkeeper clapped his hands, which signal served in lieu of a bell
for the servants. In a little while a meal of fish, eggs, chocolate and
chicken, with the ever-present frijoles and tortillas, was served. It
tasted good to the hungry lads, though as Jerry remarked he would have
preferred it just as much if there hadn't been so much red pepper and
garlic in everything.
"Water! Water! Quick!" cried Bob, after taking a generous mouthful of
frijoles, which contained an extra amount of red pepper. "My mouth is on
fire!"
He swallowed a tumblerful of liquid before he had eased the smart caused
by the fiery condiment. Thereafter he was careful to taste each dish
with a little nibble before he indulged too freely.
In spite of these drawbacks, the boys enjoyed their experience, and were
interested in the novelty of everything they saw.
"I wonder how we are to sleep?" said Jerry, after the meal was over.
"I've heard that Mexican beds were none of the best."
"You shall sleep the sleep of the just, señors," broke in the Mexican
hotel keeper, coming up just as Jerry spoke. "My inn is full, every room
is occupied, but you shall sleep _en el sereno_."
"Well, as long as it's on a good bed in a room where the mosquitoes
can't get in I shan't mind that," spoke Bob. "I don't know as I care
much for scenery, but if it goes with the bed, why, all right."
"You'll sleep in no room to-night," said Professor Snodgrass, who for
the moment was not busy hunting specimens. "By '_en el sereno_' our
friend means that you must sleep out of doors, under the stars. It is
often done in this country. They put the beds out in the courtyard or
garden and throw a mosquito net over them."
"That's good enough," said Bob. "It won't be the first time we've
slept in the open. Bring on the '_en el sereno_,'" and he laughed, the
innkeeper joining in.
The beds for the travelers were soon made up. They consisted of light
cots of wood, with a few blankets on them. Placed out in the courtyard,
under the trees, with the sky for a roof, the sleeping-places were
indeed in the open.
But the boys and Professor Snodgrass had no fault to find. They had
partaken of a good meal, they were tired with their day's journey, and
about nine o'clock voted to turn in.
"We'll keep our revolvers handy this time," said Bob, "though I guess we
won't need 'em."
"Can't be too sure," was Ned's opinion, as he took off his shoes and
placed his weapon under his pillow.
It was not long before snores told that the travelers were sound asleep.
For several hours the inn bustled with life, for the Mexicans did not
seem to care much about rest. At length the place became quiet, and
at midnight there was not a sound to be heard, save the noises of the
forest, which was no great distance away, and the vibrations caused by
the breathing of the slumberers.
It was about two o'clock in the morning when Bob was suddenly awakened
by feeling a hand passed lightly over his face.
"Here!" he cried. "Get out of that!"
"Silence!" hissed a voice in his ear. But Bob was too frightened to
keep quiet. He gave a wild yell and tried to struggle to his feet. Some
one thrust him back on the cot, and rough hands tried to rip off his
money-belt. The boy fought fiercely, and struck out with both fists.
"Wake up, Jerry and Ned!" he yelled. "We're being robbed. Shoot 'em!"
The courtyard became a scene of wild commotion. It was dark, for the
moon was covered with clouds, but as Jerry and Ned sat up, alarmed by
Bob's voice, they could detect dim forms moving about among the trees.
"The Mexicans are robbing us!" shouted Ned. He drew his revolver and
fired in the air for fear of hitting one of his comrades. By the light
of the weapon's flash he saw a man close to him. Bob aimed the pistol in
the fellow's face and pulled the trigger. There was a report, followed
by a loud yell. At the same time a thousand stars seemed to dance before
Ned's eyes, and he fell back, knocked unconscious by a hard blow.
Jerry had sprung to his feet, to be met by a blow in the face from a
brawny fist. He quickly recovered himself, however, and grappled with
his assailant. He found he was but an infant in the hands of a strong
man. The boy tried to reach for his revolver, but just as his hand
touched the butt of the weapon he received a stinging blow on the head
and he toppled over backward, his senses leaving him.
In the meanwhile Bob was still struggling with the robber who had
attacked him. Fleshy as he was, Bob had considerable strength, and he
wrestled with the fellow. They both fell to the ground and rolled over.
In their struggles they got underneath one of the beds.
"Let me go!" yelled Bob. At that instant he felt the ear of his enemy
come against his mouth. The boy promptly seized the member in his teeth
and bit it hard enough to make the fellow howl for mercy.
Bob suddenly found himself released, and the robber, with a parting blow
that made the boy's head sing, rolled away from under the bed and took
to his heels.
"Help! help! help!" cried Professor Snodgrass, as Bob tried to sit
upright, for it was under the bed of the naturalist that the boy had
rolled. In straightening up he had tipped the scientist, who, up to this
point, had been sleeping soundly on the cot.
"What is it? What has happened? Is it a fire? Has an earthquake
occurred? Is the river rising? Has a tidal wave come in? Santa Maria!
But what is all the noise about?" cried the landlord, rushing into the
courtyard, bearing an ancient lantern. "What has happened, señors? Was
your rest disturbed?"
"Was our rest disturbed?" inquired Bob, in as sarcastic a tone as
possible under the circumstances. "Well, I would say yes! A band of
robbers attacked us."
"A band of robbers! Santa Maria! Impossible! There are no robbers in
Mexico!" and the innkeeper began to chatter volubly in Spanish.