A VISIT FROM THE RAIDERS.
“What has this man done?” continued Uncle John.
“O, he got into a little trouble down there in our settlement, and had
to dig out; so he stole the best horse in the state to help him along.
That will be the means of getting him into _big_ trouble, if we put our
eyes on him; but we don’t much expect to catch him, for the horse he
stole can travel for a week at his best pace, and our nags, which were
fresh this morning, are pretty nearly whipped.”
“I am sorry that I can give you no information concerning him,” said
Uncle John; “but I will tell you what I can do—I can give you some
supper, and you can take your pick out of twenty fresh horses in my
corral.”
Both the horsemen expressed hearty thanks for this kind offer of
assistance, and were prompt to accept it. They didn’t care much for
anything to eat, they said, for they were used to going hungry; but they
would take a hasty lunch, while Uncle John was getting their fresh
horses ready, and if he would put them on a straight course for the
nearest ford, they would be much obliged, and would take pleasure in
doing as much for him, if he ever came to their settlement.
Ned listened to all this in speechless amazement and alarm. The stolen
horse was hitched under the shed, in plain view of the porch, beside
which the strangers would dismount, and if it had been daylight, nothing
could have saved him from discovery. True, it was dark now—so dark that
the boy’s frightened face was effectually concealed,—but Ned knew that
the moon would rise in less than a quarter of an hour, and if anything
should happen to detain the visitors at the rancho, or if they should
take it into their heads to pry into things after they got there,
something disagreeable would be sure to happen. Ned did not like to
think about it. He accompanied the men to his home, where he made
himself very officious, taking charge of their horses, and showing so
much anxiety to have them go right into the house, that it is a wonder
their suspicions were not aroused. He could scarcely breathe until he
saw his father conduct them into the rancho, and close the door behind
them.
“What’s the trouble?” asked the herdsman who had been sent out to catch
and saddle the fresh horses. “Who are those men, and where are they
travelling to at this time of night?”
“I don’t know,” was Ned’s reply. “They want to reach the river as soon
as possible, and you had better hurry up and get the horses ready.”
“Humph!” exclaimed the herdsman, as he led the strangers’ nags toward
the corral. “Horsethieves, for a dollar!”
Ned did not care what opinions the man formed concerning the visitors,
so long as he did not hit upon the right one. It might be dangerous to
let any of the servants know that the men were in search of a chestnut
horse, with four white feet, and a star in his forehead; for it was very
probable that some of them had by this time found out that there was
such a horse hitched under the shed, and it would be just like them to
say something about it. There were a good many ways in which the
strangers might learn all they wanted to know, and Ned would have been
glad to hide himself somewhere, until they had taken their departure;
but he dared not go away, for fear that, during his absence, his secret
might leak out in some way. He hoped to prevent such a calamity by
staying there and hurrying the men off when they came out.
Ned walked up and down the porch, in a fever of excitement and suspense,
and at the end of a quarter of an hour was greatly relieved to see the
herdsman coming with the fresh horses.
“Give them to me,” said Ned, when they had been brought up to the porch.
“I’ll hold them until the men come out.”
“Well, you hold one and I’ll hold the other,” answered the herdsman,
putting one of the bridles in Ned’s hand. “I want to have a good look at
those fellows.”
Ned was almost ready to cry with rage and alarm. He could not send the
man away, if he was resolved to remain; and while he was wondering if he
had not better go himself and trust to luck, a door at the farther end
of the porch, which gave entrance into the kitchen, was opened, and the
Mexican cook came out.
This was the man whom George declared to be mean enough for anything.
The old cook, who had had charge of the culinary department of the
ranche during Mr. Ackerman’s lifetime had been discharged at the request
of Ned, who had some fault to find with the man, and this Mexican, who
came from, nobody seemed to know where, had been employed to take his
place. No one about the ranche liked him. He was an excellent cook, but
he was always slipping about the house on tip-toe, as if he were trying
to find out something, and seemed to have a way of getting at everything
he wanted to know. He walked up the porch in his stealthy, noiseless
way, looked all around, to make sure that he was not observed, then bent
his face close to Ned’s, and was about to whisper something to him, when
he discovered the herdsman, who was standing at the foot of the steps,
holding the other horse.
“Who’s that?” he demanded.
“Me!” answered the herdsman.
“O,” said the cook, recognising the voice. “Well, go in and get your
supper. It is all ready.”
“I’ll go as soon as I see these visitors off.”
“You’ll go now or you won’t get it at all,” exclaimed the cook. “I
shan’t keep it waiting for you. I want to get through in that kitchen
some time to-night.”
The herdsman muttered something under his breath, passed the bridle of
the horse he was holding up to Ned and went into the kitchen. The
Mexican watched him until he disappeared, and then, with another
suspicious glance around, came up to Ned.
“I know’ where that horse is,” said he, in a low tone.
“What horse?” Ned almost gasped.
“The one that was stolen.”
“I—I don’t know what you mean,” stammered Ned.
“O, I heard them talking about it in there while I was dishing up the
supper to them,” replied the cook, nodding his head as if to say that it
was of no use whatever for Ned to feign ignorance of the matter. “He’s a
chestnut-colored horse, with four white feet and a star in his forehead.
He’s out under that shed now, ‘cause I saw him there! Eh! He belongs to
the wife of one of those men inside, and she calls him Silk Stocking;
but all the men folks about the ranche poke fun at her and make her mad
by calling him Socks. Eh!”
The Mexican poked Ned in the ribs with his finger and straightened up
and looked at him. He laughed, too, and seemed to regard the whole
matter in the light of an excellent joke—but Ned didn’t.
“Powerful men, those in there,” continued the Mexican, jerking his thumb
over his shoulders toward the door. “They carry big revolvers in their
belts, and are dead shots; I know it by the looks of ‘em. They’re mad,
too—so mad that I wouldn’t give much for the man in whose hands they
find that horse.”
“Gracious!” ejaculated Ned, who trembled all over. He wished now from
the bottom of his heart that he had told everything at the start; and
while he was wondering if it were now too late to do so and escape any
very serious consequences, the door opened and the men came out. One
look at them was enough to drive all thoughts of confession out of the
boy’s mind. How tall and broad-shouldered they were, and how fierce they
looked when the light from the lamp in the hall fell full upon their
bearded faces. They stood upon the porch for a few seconds, talking with
Uncle John and listening to his instructions regarding the course they
ought to follow in order to reach the ford, and then they took the
bridles from Ned’s hand and were about to mount when a loud, shrill
neigh sounded from the direction of the shed.
Three of those who heard it were visibly affected by it. The visitors
looked at each other in surprise, while Ned leaned heavily upon the
railing of the porch for support. If there had been no railing there he
would have fallen to the ground, for there was no strength in him.
“That sounds wonderfully like Sock’s voice, doesn’t it?” exclaimed one
of the visitors.
The other replied that it certainly did.
“What horse is that out there under the shed,” asked Uncle John.
“It’s Ned’s old cob, sir,” said the cook, promptly; and Ned was glad
that the man answered for him, for he could not have uttered a word to
save his life. Frightened as he was he wandered at the cook’s reply. Why
did he not say that the stolen horse was there, and claim the liberal
reward that had probably been offered for his recovery?
“I never heard anything sound so much like Socks’s neigh in my life,”
declared one of the visitors, as he jumped into the saddle. “But of
course it can’t be, for the horse is a long way from here by this time.
Mr. Ackerman, we are indebted to you for your kindness and hospitality.”
“You are very welcome,” answered Uncle John. “I am only sorry that I
can’t do more for you.”
The visitors lifted their hats and rode away out of sight; Uncle John
turned about and went into the house; the cook returned to his quarters
in the kitchen, and Ned was left alone clinging to the railing of the
verandah. He could hardly believe that the trying scenes through which
he had just passed were realities. They seemed more like a troubled
dream.
“If anybody can come as near getting caught as I did and yet escape, I’d
like to see him do it,” thought Ned, when his mind became settled so
that he could think at all. “I never heard of a closer shave, and I
don’t believe there ever was one.”
Ned was not very highly elated over his escape, for he knew that he was
not yet wholly out of danger. On the contrary, he would never be out of
danger while that horse was in his possession. Those two men would come
back some day to return the horses they had borrowed of Uncle John and
reclaim their own, and they might come, too, when they were least
expected, and before Ned had opportunity to secrete the stolen horse. It
was too late now to avoid trouble by giving the animal up to his lawful
owner, for the latter would want to know why he had not given him up
before, and Ned did not know what answer he could make to so awkward a
question as that. Besides, there was Philip, the Mexican cook. Ned grew
angry and alarmed every time he thought of him. The man was up to
something beyond a doubt, for if he were not, what was the reason he did
not tell the strangers that the horse of which they were in search was
under the shed where Ned had left him?
The boy was in a very tight place, and he did not know which way to
turn. He was in a scrape at last that he could not lie out of. The
longer he dwelt upon it the plainer he saw the dangers of the situation
and the greater became his alarm. He walked slowly down the steps and
turned his face toward the shed in which the stolen horse was confined.
The animal welcomed him with a low whinny of recognition, and when Ned
patted his sleek neck he rubbed his head against his shoulders as if he
were glad to see him. Beyond a doubt he was somebody’s pet, and the boy
did not wonder that his owner was anxious to recover him.
Ned, whose nervousness and excitement seemed to increase all the while,
stayed there in the shed for two long hours, walking restlessly about
with his hands in his pockets, and asking himself over and over again
why he did not tell his father all about the new horse when he first
came home, and what he should do to bring himself out of the scrape he
had got into through his foolishness. When bed-time came the servants
began shutting up the rancho for the night. He heard them closing the
heavy shutters and locking and barring the doors, but he did not move.
He could not bear to go to bed just then, and he knew that when his
nervousness abated so that he could sleep he could gain admittance to
the house through the door that was always left unfastened to
accommodate any of the servants who might happen to be out later than
usual.
The rancho looked gloomy and dark enough after the shutters and doors
were closed. It stood out in bold relief against the sky, looking like
one of the haunted castles of which Ned had so often read. The bright
moonlight gave it an almost unearthly appearance, Ned thought; and when
at last all sounds of life about the building had died away, he began to
feel lonely and afraid—afraid to stay longer where he was and afraid to
pass across the lighted yard between the shed and the back porch of the
rancho.
“I really must go,” thought Ned, after he had started toward the house
two or three times, and as often drawn back again to wait until he could
gather a fresh supply of courage. “I have been frightened so many times
to-night that I imagine all sorts of things. Every tree and bush I look
at, turns into a horseman, and I am almost——”
Ned stopped suddenly, and stooping close to the ground, looked sharply
at some object in the distance. “Whew!” he exclaimed, drawing his hand
across his dripping forehead, “it did look like a long line of horsemen
and—so it is. Yes, sir, I can see them plainly enough. It’s all over
with Ned Ackerman now!”
The boy turned in the instant and placing his hands on the side of the
deep manger which ran the whole length of one end of the shed, vaulted
over it, and concealed himself. He lay for a moment trembling with
alarm, and then pulling off his hat, cautiously raised his head until he
could see over the top of the manger. The objects which had aroused his
fears were certainly mounted men. They were moving in single file by the
side of the trail, and as the long, thick grass deadened the sound of
their horses’ feet, their approach was almost noiseless.
“What are they?” thought Ned, ducking his head after he had taken one
short, quick glance at the men. “Are they raiders, or have those
strangers found out something and come back with reinforcements?”
Ned could not have told just then which he stood the more in fear of—the
angry owner of the horse at his side or lawless Mexicans. He knew that
it would be dangerous to fall into the hands of either of them. He could
not reach the shelter of the house—they could easily cut him off if he
attempted it—and his only chance to escape capture, or something worse,
was to remain quiet in his place of concealment, and trust to luck. It
was not at all likely that the horsemen, whoever they were, would think
of looking in the shed for him even if they wanted to find him.
Just then Ned’s new horse threw up his head, looked over his shoulder
and uttered a loud, shrill neigh. Ned tried hard to stop it, but without
success. The animal neighed not only once, but two or three times in
succession, in spite of the furious jerks the boy gave at his bridle.
Here was a new cause for alarm. The animal wanted company, and he would
keep up that neighing as long as there were any horses in sight. He
would be sure to attract attention by it too.
“You’ll keep me in trouble as long as you stay with me,” said Ned,
jumping to his feet to act upon an idea that just then came into his
mind, “and the sooner you and I part company the better it will be for
me. There you go,” he added, as he pulled the halter over the horse’s
head and saw him gallop out of the shed. “I hope I shall never see you
again. I wish I had never seen you in the first place.”
Ned felt a little more at his ease as he sank back into his place of
concealment. The danger of discovery was considerably lessened by this
piece of strategy, but still his situation was anything but an agreeable
one. There he was, cornered in a manger by a lot of men whose actions
indicated that they were there for no good purpose, who were approaching
the house in a stealthy manner, so as not to alarm the inmates, and who,
probably, would think no more of making an end of him, if they knew he
was there in plain sight of them, than they would of knocking over an
antelope for breakfast. The situation would have tried the courage of a
much braver boy than Ned Ackerman.
The horsemen stopped when they saw the chestnut galloping to meet them,
but moved forward again as soon as they saw that he was riderless. They
rode up to the fence which surrounded the corral, and hitched their
horses to it. The chestnut followed and mingled with their nags, but the
men paid no attention to him. They gathered in a little group in the
shade of one of the oaks that grew beside the corral, and held a
consultation. Ned watched their movements with a good deal of surprise.
“Why don’t those men catch that horse?” said he to himself. “If they are
raiders, they ought to steal him; and if the man who owns him is there,
he ought to catch him, to keep him from straying away. I don’t
understand it at all.”
While Ned was talking to himself in this way, he heard a latch softly
raised. He turned his eyes in the direction of the rancho, and saw that
one of the doors, opening on to the back porch, was ajar, and that
somebody was looking out of it. He stood for a moment, turning his head
first on one side and then on the other, as if he were listening for
something, and then came out into full view. It was the Mexican cook.
The moon’s rays fell full upon him, and the boy could see him plainly.
“Now is my chance!” thought Ned, getting upon his feet, but standing in
a crouching attitude, so that nothing but his head could be seen over
the top of the manger. “If I can run fast enough, I can put myself in a
place of safety and warn Philip at the same time.”
Ned jumped quickly out of the manger, as he said this; but his feet had
scarcely touched the ground before he turned like a flash and jumped
back again, crouching down in his hiding-place as low as he could, and
still see all that was going on outside the shed. The men were coming in
a body toward the house. There were fifteen or twenty of them in all,
and as soon as they had moved out of the shade of the trees, so that the
moon’s rays could fall plainly upon them, Ned saw that they were dressed
in Mexican costume—short jackets, wide trowsers and sombreros—and that
they were armed to the teeth. They were cattle-thieves, of course; but
what did they mean by approaching the rancho in that stealthy manner?
The boy, trembling in every limb, turned his eyes from the Mexicans to
the porch, where he had last seen the cook. He was there yet, and
standing out in plain view of the raiders, who must have seen him, for
he was not more than twenty feet away. Philip saw them, too, beyond a
doubt; but, instead of running into the house and arousing the inmates,
as Ned expected him to do, he walked up to the rail and rested his hands
upon it. One would have thought from his actions that he was expecting
the raiders. Ned thought so, and in an instant it flashed upon him that
there was some treachery intended.
“Father always said that Philip was a rascal!” soliloquized Ned, his
rage for the moment getting the better of his terror, “and now I know he
is one! He is a cattle-thief himself, and he and the rest are after the
money-box! But how could Philip have found out that we had a money-box?”
added Ned, as he recalled the fact that the cook belonged in the
kitchen, and had probably never seen the inside of his father’s office;
“and even if he had known all about the box, how could he have told his
friends of it? He hasn’t been away from the house an hour at a time
since he has been here.”
Ned might have kept on propounding to himself questions that he could
not answer, but his thoughts were carried into other channels by the
actions of the raiders, who walked straight up to the porch where Philip
was standing, and entered into a whispered conversation with him. Ned
could not overhear what was said, but he saw the cook turn toward the
house and extend his hands in different directions, as if he were trying
to give his friends (for such they undoubtedly were) some idea of its
internal arrangements. Probably he was telling them where to find the
office and the strong box. If such was the case, it took him but a
moment to do it; and when the raiders had learned all they wanted to
know, they stepped lightly upon the porch and followed Philip toward the
open door. When they reached it, Philip pushed it farther open, stood on
one side to allow them to pass, and the raiders filed in, one after the
other, on tip-toe! Half their number had disappeared in the house, when
all at once a deafening uproar arose. There was a fight going on in the
hall. First there was a loud yell, that was evidently given by one of
the servants to arouse his sleeping companions, and the yell was
accompanied rather than followed by a crash which made Ned believe that
the inside of the house was being torn in pieces. It was the report of a
revolver. Another and another followed, and an instant afterward, the
raiders, having failed in their efforts to surprise the inmates of the
rancho, appeared in great confusion, crowding through the door in a
body, and in their haste prostrating the cook, who was knocked off the
porch to the ground. He lay for a moment as if stunned by the fall, and
then sprang up and ran away with the rest.
The baffled raiders scattered in every direction, and taking refuge
behind the outbuildings and lumber piles opened a hot fire on the rancho
from their carbines. To Ned’s intense alarm two of them ran straight for
the shed. He saw them coming, and ducking his head crept swiftly into
the farthest end of the manger and crowded himself into the darkest
corner. One of the men dodged behind a wagon, but the other dashed into
the shed, jumped into the manger and taking up a position in the
opposite end, scarcely fifteen feet from the trembling boy, fired his
carbine at the door from which he and his companions had just been
driven. Ned was almost ready to scream with terror, but knowing that his
safety depended upon his preserving the strictest silence, he choked
back the cry while it was trembling on his lips, and covering his face
with his hands awaited the issue of events with all the fortitude he
could command.
Fortunately the Mexican in the other end of the manger was so busily
engaged in loading and firing that he could not take time to look about
him during the very few minutes that he remained in his hiding-place.
The inmates of the rancho defended themselves with spirit, and one of
their number, becoming aware that there was an enemy in the shed, fired
three shots from his revolver in that direction. Ned’s hair fairly stood
on end as he heard the bullets crashing through the planks which formed
the outside of the manger. The eccentric and hurried movements of the
Mexican proved that he was no less embarrassed by them, and when the
third bullet came in, striking closer to his head than the others, he
uttered an exclamation in Spanish, and jumping out of the manger ran off
to find a less exposed ambush. Ned was glad to see him go.
“I wonder what they mean by such work, any how?” thought Ned, who,
frightened as he was, could not resist the temptation to get upon his
knees and look over the top of the manger. “Haven’t they got sense
enough to see that our fellows have the advantage of them, and that
there is nothing to be gained by shooting at stone walls? There! I guess
they are going now!”
Just then one of the band uttered a shrill whistle, and the firing
ceased almost immediately. Ned looked to see them mount and ride away
without loss of time, but the sequel proved that they were not yet ready
to give up all hopes of handling the money in the strong box, if that
was what they were after. The whistle was given to call the band
together for consultation. They gathered behind the shed out of sight of
the house, and one of them leaned against the boards so close to Ned
that if the latter had pushed his finger through one of the cracks he
could have touched him. The boy could hear their slightest whisper, but
could not understand a word that was said, for they talked altogether in
Spanish. They quickly decided upon a new plan of operations, and
separated to carry it into execution. A portion of the band opened fire
on the rancho again, and the others, having secured an axe, crept around
to the opposite side and furiously attacked one of the doors; but the
tough oak planks of which it was made resisted the blows of the axe
until the herdsmen had time to run to the other side of the building and
drive them away by firing through the loopholes with their revolvers.
Then the attack was renewed on another door with the same result;
finally, the Mexicans, growing discouraged, hurled a volley of Spanish
oaths at the defenders of the rancho, which had about the same effect on
them that their bullets had on the walls, and ran toward their horses.
Ned kept his eye on the thieves while they were crossing the yard, and
was gratified to see that they had not come off unscathed. Three of
their number were limping along with the assistance of some of their
comrades, and a fourth was being carried in a blanket. Whether he was
killed or badly wounded Ned could not tell. He saw them mount and ride
away, and the last object that caught his eye as they passed out of
sight was the stolen horse, prancing and curveting behind them, his
white legs showing plainly in the moonlight.