AN UNEXPECTED FRIEND.
It was too uneven a chase to last long. Bob soon found that his enemies
were gaining on him, and he resolved to play a trick. He came to a big
rock and dropped down behind it, hiding in the shadow.
For a time the Mexicans were baffled, but they spread about in a half
circle and Bob could hear them gradually surrounding him. Still he hoped
to escape detection.
"Can't you find him?" he heard Noddy call.
"He seems to have given us the slip," replied Vasco. "But we'll get him
yet."
Noddy sent the searchlight of the automobile all about the rock behind
which Bob was hidden, but the deep shadow cast protected the boy.
At length, however, one of the Mexicans approached the place. At the
same instant Bob was seized with an uncontrollable desire to sneeze. His
nose tickled and, though he held his breath and did everything he had
ever read about calculated to prevent sneezes, the tickling increased.
Finally he gave voice to a loud "Ka-choo!"
"_Diablo!_" exclaimed the nearest Mexican. "What have we here?"
He was at the rock in an instant and lost no time in grabbing Bob. The
boy tried to struggle and escape again, but his captor held him in a
firm grip. The Mexican set up a shout at the discovery of his prize,
which speedily brought Vasco and his comrades to the scene.
"So, you didn't care much for our company," observed Bilette. "But never
mind, we think so much of you that we run after you wherever you go. Now
we have you again!" and he laughed in an unpleasant manner.
"I don't see what you want of me," remarked Bob, as he was led back and
placed on his pony.
"Ah, perhaps you are not aware that you are worth much money to us,"
said Vasco.
"I'll give you all I have if you'll let me go," said Bob.
"That is something we overlooked," said Dalsett. "Take his money, Vasco.
He may have a few dollars."
In another minute Bob's money-belt, with the best part of five hundred
dollars, was in the possession of the Mexicans. He wished he had kept
still.
"This is doing very well," observed Vasco, as he counted over the bills
with glistening eyes. "This is very well indeed, and most unexpected.
But we want more than this."
"It is all I have," answered Bob.
"But your people, your father has more," went on the Mexican. "I think
if you were to write him a letter, stating that you were about to be
killed unless he sent ten thousand dollars, he would be glad to give us
the small amount."
"I'll never write such a letter!" exclaimed Bob. "You can kill me if you
want to!"
"You'll think differently in the morning," remarked Vasco. "Here, you
fellows, tie him up so he can't get away again!"
This time the ropes were knotted so tightly about the boy's arms and
legs that he knew he could not work them loose. He was thrown over the
back of the pony and the cavalcade started off again.
All night long the march continued, the men on their horses and Noddy
and his friends in the auto. Poor Bob felt sick at heart over his
failure to escape and the knowledge, conveyed to him in Vasco's remarks,
that he was being held for ransom.
Just as day was beginning to break, the party reached a small Mexican
village and preparations were made to spend some time there. Vasco and
his men seemed to know the place well, for they were greeted by many
of the inhabitants of the place who had arisen early. Noddy ran the
automobile under a shed and then the whole crowd, taking Bob with them,
went to a large house at the end of the principal street, where they
evidently intended to make their headquarters.
Bob was taken to a small room on the second floor, facing the courtyard,
which is a feature of all Mexican homes. His bonds were released and he
was thrust roughly inside.
The apartment was bare enough. There were a table, a chair and a bed in
the room. The only window was guarded by heavy iron bars, and the single
door was fastened with a massive lock.
"I guess I'll have trouble getting out of here," said Bob to himself.
"It's a regular prison. I wonder if they're going to starve me?"
He began to suffer for want of water, and his stomach cried for food.
He had some thought of pounding on the walls and demanding to be fed,
when the door opened and a girl quickly entered, setting on the table a
tray of food. She was gone before Bob had a chance to get a good look at
her, but he saw that she was young and pretty, attired as she was in gay
Mexican colors.
Though the meal was not very appetizing, it tasted to Bob as if it was
the best dinner ever served. He felt better after eating it, and more
hopeful.
For several days he was held a captive in the room. One evening Vasco
Bilette and Tom Dalsett paid him a visit.
"We have brought a paper for you to sign," said Vasco.
"I will sign nothing," replied Bob.
"I think you will, my boy," spoke the Mexican. "Bring in the charcoal,
Tom."
Dalsett went out and returned with a small, portable clay stove in
which burned some charcoal. Heating in the flames was an iron used for
branding cattle.
"You can take your choice of signing this or of seeing how you look with
a hot iron on," said Vasco. "This paper is a letter to your father,
telling him you have been captured by brigands, who will not let you go
excepting they are paid ten thousand dollars."
"I'll never sign!" replied Bob, firmly.
"Then brand him!" cried Vasco.
One of the Mexicans took the iron from the fire. It glowed with a white,
cruel heat. At the sight of it Bob's courage melted away. At the same
time a plan came into his head.
"I'll sign!" he exclaimed.
"I thought you would," observed Vasco. "Put your name here."
He handed Bob a letter, written to Mr. Baker, whose name and address
Noddy Nixon had supplied. In brief, it demanded that ten thousand
dollars be sent to the brigands and left in a lonely spot mentioned, if
Mr. Baker did not want to hear of the death of his son. Any attempt to
capture the writers, the missive stated, would be met with the instant
killing of the boy.
"Sign there," said Vasco, indicating the place.
Bob did so. At the same time he placed beneath his signature a scrawl
and a row of figures.
To the Mexicans figures meant nothing, and it is doubtful if they
observed them. But to Mr. Baker they spelled out the message: "Send no
money. I can get away."
They were figures in a secret cypher bank code that Mr. Baker sometimes
used, and which Bob had learned.
"I guess that will fool them," thought the boy, as he saw his captors
take away the letter.
For the next few days nothing occurred. Bob was kept a close prisoner in
his room, and the only person he saw was the girl who brought him food.
He tried to talk to her, but she did not seem to understand English.
The captive was beginning to despair. He feared he would never see his
friends again, for he did not believe his father would send the money,
and without it he was sure the desperate men would kill him.
His confidence in his ability to escape lessened as the days went by. He
tried to pick the lock on his door, and loosen a bar at the window, but
without success. It was the fifth day of his captivity and the Mexican
girl came to bring him his supper.
To Bob's surprise, this time she did not hurry away. She set the tray of
food down and looked at him anxiously.
"You want go?" she asked, in a broken accent.
"You mean escape? Get away from here? Leave?" asked Bob, taking sudden
hope.
"Um! Go 'way. Leave bad mans! Maximina help! You go?"
"Of course," replied Bob. "But how are you going to manage it?"
"Wait till dark. Me come. You go, we go. Leave bad mans. Me no like it
here. Bad mans whip Maximina."
By which Bob understood that the girl would come when it got dark and
help him to escape, accompanying him because she herself had been ill
treated by the Mexicans.
"Be good boy! Me come. You glad!" she said, in a whisper.
Just then the sound of voices was heard outside the room, in the
corridor.
"Hush! No tell!" cautioned the girl as she glided from the room.
Bob began to eat his supper. His heart was in a flutter of hope.
"Queer why that money don't come," he heard Vasco say, outside. "We'll
have to do something pretty soon."
It was getting dark now, and Bob waited anxiously.