CHAPTER VII.

THE CAMP IN THE DESERT.

Without unnecessary delay, they took the train from Mendoza to

Zacatecas, which was a much larger place.

In Zacatecas they set about the task of finding a reliable guide, which

was no easy matter, as they soon discovered.

The Mexican half-bloods were a lazy, shiftless set, and the full-blooded

Spaniards did not seem to care about taking the trip across the desert.

Till late that night Frank searched in vain for the man he wanted, and

he was finally forced to give up the task till another day.

Such a delay made him very impatient, and he felt much like starting out

without a guide, depending on a compass, with which he believed he would

be able to make his way due west to Huejugilla el Alto.

The landlord of the hotel at which they stopped that night was a

fine-appearing man, and Frank ventured to lay the matter before him.

The landlord listened to the entire story, looking very grave, shook his

head warningly, and said:

"Do not think of attempting to cross the desert alone, young senors.

Without a guide you might get lost and perish for water. By all means,

take a guide."

"But how are we to obtain a trustworthy guide, sir?"

"That is truly a problem, but I think I may be able to assist you in the

morning."

"If you can, it will be a great favor."

"Many thanks, young senor. I will see what can be done. If you would

take my advice, you would not go to Huejugilla el Alto."

"Why not?"

"It is far from the railroad, and is situated in a very wild region. If

you were to go there and should never be heard of again, it would not be

easy for your friends to discover what had become of you. Pacheco

directed you to go there, and he means you no good. It is likely you

will walk into a trap that Pacheco has set for you."

"I have considered that," said Frank, quietly; "and I have decided to

go."

"Oh, very well," with a gesture expressive of regret. "I know it is

quite impossible to change the determination of you Americans. If you

have firmly decided to go, you will go, even though you knew all the

deadly dangers that may lie in wait for you."

Being again assured that the landlord would do his best to obtain a

guide, Frank proposed to retire for the night.

For all of the troubles that beset him, Frank was able to sleep soundly,

having trained himself to sleep under almost any circumstances. Hans

also slept and snored, to be awakened in the morning by Frank, who was

shaking him roughly.

"Come, Hans, it is time we were stirring."

"Vot vos dot?" cried the Dutch lad, in surprise. "We don'd peen asleep

more as fifteen minutes alretty yet."

"It is morning."

"I don'd toldt you so! Vell, dot peats der pand!"

Hans got up and dressed with great reluctance, yawning, and declaring

over and over that the nights in Mexico were not more than fifteen or

twenty minutes in length.

The landlord had prepared a special breakfast for them, and it proved

the best they had found since leaving "the States," so they ate heartily

and felt much better afterward.

After breakfast the landlord himself informed them that he had been able

to obtain a guide.

"He is the very person you want, young senors, for he knows the desert

and he knows the mountains. You may depend on him to lead you straight

across to Huejugilla el Alto."

The guide was waiting for them, wrapped to his chin in a crimson poncho,

and smoking a cigarette. He was a dark-faced, somewhat sinister-looking

fellow, and he gave his name as Pedro.

While Frank did not like the appearance of the man, he felt that it was

not policy to delay longer, and a bargain was soon made. Pedro not only

agreed to take them quickly across the desert, but he contracted to

furnish horses for them.

The forenoon was not far advanced when they rode out of Zacatecas, and,

with the sun at their backs, headed toward the west.

Before the day passed Pedro showed by many things that he was quite

familiar with the desert. He knew where shade and water were to be

found, and, at noonday, they rested long beside a spring, with the sun

beating on the wide waste of sand, over which the heat haze danced, and

where no cooling breath seemed astir.

The heat affected Hans much more than it did Frank. The Dutch boy

suffered, but he made no complaint.

With the sun well over into the western sky, they pushed onward again.

They did not halt as the grateful shadows of night lay on the desert,

but followed Pedro on and on.

At last, far across the desert, they saw the twinkling of a light that

seemed like a fallen star.

"It's a camp-fire," declared Pedro, in Spanish. "Who can be there?"

"It may be bandits," suggested Frank, somewhat wary.

"No," declared the guide, "bandits do not build fires on the open

plains. Bandits it cannot be."

He did not hesitate to lead them straight toward the fire.

Frank whispered to Hans:

"Have your weapons ready. This may be the trap."

As they approached the fire, they were able to make out the figures of

two or three horses, but no human being was to be seen, although a

coffeepot sat on some coals, fragrant steam rising from the nozzle.

Pedro stopped, seeming somewhat uneasy for the first time.

"What is it?" asked Frank, with apprehension.

"Yah, vot id vos?" asked Hans. "Vos der camp left all alone mit ids

lonesome?"

"Not that, senors; but we have been heard, and the ones at the camp are

hiding and watching."

"Vell, I like dot. Maype dey haf der trop on us alretty soon."

"That is likely," said Frank.

Pedro called out something in Spanish, but there was no answer, save

that one of the horses lifted its head and neighed.

Then Frank tried it in English:

"Ho, the camp! Who is there, and where are you?"

Almost instantly a man's voice replied:

"I'm out hyar whar I kin take a peep at yer, as I heard yer comin'.

Didn't know but you wus Greasers, an' I ain't got no use fer ther onery

varmints. As yer kin talk United States, just move right up ter the fire

and join me at supper."

There was a hearty freedom about the invitation that dispelled Frank's

fears immediately, and they rode forward into the firelight.

As they did so, a man rose from where he had been stretched on the sand,

and came forward to meet them.

"Great Scott!" shouted Frank, as the firelight fell on the man's face.

"It's Alwin Bushnell, Jack Burk's partner!"

Frank Merriwell Down South · 第 7 / 46 章