FRANK PROVES HIMSELF A HERO.
"There!" said Frank, with something like a sigh of relief. "If Pierre
gets into that office to-night, he'll have to use an ax; and if he tries
that"--
Frank finished the sentence by shaking his head in a threatening manner,
and taking down his rifle, which he proceeded to load very carefully. He
had made up his mind to fight, if it should become necessary.
He was now more anxious than ever for the arrival of his two friends,
for he did not like the idea of remaining alone in the house all night,
with so much money under his charge, and a villainous-looking Mexican
hovering about. Frank, as we know, was very far from being a coward; but
having by some means got it into his head that Pierre was a rascal, and
that something unpleasant would happen before morning, he could not
help feeling rather anxious.
The afternoon wore slowly away, but Johnny and Dick did not make their
appearance. Darkness came on apace, and Frank, being at last satisfied
that he was to be left alone in his glory for that night at least, ate
his supper, and visited Roderick in his stable to see that he was well
provided for, and then whistled for his dog, which he had not seen since
the departure of Mr. Brown. Marmion, however, did not respond to the
call. Frank whistled and shouted several times in vain, and then set out
to hunt up his favorite. He visited the Rancheros' quarters, and found
Felix and Pierre sitting in the door of one of the cabins, smoking their
cigarettes. The former had not seen the dog; but, willing to serve Frank
to any extent in his power, offered to go in search of the animal.
Pierre, however, said that would be useless, for he had seen Marmion in
hot pursuit of a rabbit. No doubt he had driven the game into its
burrow, and was engaged in digging it out. When he caught the rabbit, he
would come home of his own free will.
Although Frank was suspicious of every thing Pierre said or did, he
could see no reason for disbelieving this story. Marmion was quite as
fond of the chase as his young master, and frequently indulged in
hunting expeditions on his own responsibility; sometimes being absent
all day and nearly all night. But he was not off hunting then, and
Pierre had told a deliberate falsehood, when he said that he had seen
him in pursuit of a rabbit. The Ranchero had determined upon a course of
action which he knew he could not follow out so long as the dog was at
liberty, and Marmion was, at that very moment, lying bound and muzzled
under one of the corn-cribs, almost within hearing of his master's
voice.
Frank slowly retraced his steps toward the house, feeling more nervous
and uneasy than ever. In Marmion he had an ally that could be depended
on in any emergency; and, if the dog had been at his side, he would have
felt perfectly safe. But he was not the one to indulge long in gloomy
thoughts without a cause, and in order to drive them away, he lighted
his lamp, and, drawing his easy-chair upon the porch, amused himself
until nine o'clock with his guitar. The music not only served to soothe
his troubled feelings, but also had the effect of banishing his
suspicions to a great extent, and left him in a much more cheerful frame
of mind.
"How foolish I have been," said he, to himself. "Because Pierre is ugly,
like all the rest of his race, and because he always carries a knife in
his belt, and hates Marmion, I have been willing to believe him capable
of any villainy. I don't suppose he has thought of that gold since he
saw me lock it up."
As Frank said this, he pulled his chair into the room, and selecting
Cooper's "Last of the Mohicans" from the numerous volumes in the
library, he dismissed all thoughts of the Ranchero, and sat down to read
until he should become sleepy. He soon grew so deeply interested in his
book, that he did not hear the light step that sounded on the porch, nor
did he see the dark, glittering eyes which looked steadily at him
through the open window. He saw them a moment afterward, however, for,
while he was absorbed in that particular part of the fight at Glen's
Falls, where Hawk-Eye snapped his unloaded rifle at the Indian who was
making off with the canoe in which the scout had left his ammunition, a
figure glided quickly but noiselessly into the room, and stopped behind
the boy's chair.
"Now, my opinion is that Hawk-Eye was not much of a backwoodsman, after
all," said Frank, who was in the habit of commenting upon and
criticising every thing he read. "Why did he leave his extra powder-horn
in his canoe, when he knew that the Hurons were all around him? You
wouldn't catch Dick or old Bob Kelly in any such scrape, nor me either,
for that matter, for I would"--
Frank's soliloquy was brought to a close very suddenly, and what he was
about to say must forever remain a secret. His throat was seized with an
iron grasp, and he was lifted bodily out of his chair, and thrown upon
the floor. So quickly was it done that he had no time to resist or to
cry out. Before he could realize what had happened, he found himself
lying flat on his back, and felt a heavy weight upon his breast holding
him down.
Filled with surprise and indignation, he looked up into the face that
was bending over him, and recognized Pierre Costello, whose features
wore a fiendish expression, the effect of which was heightened by a
murderous-looking knife which he carried between his teeth. Scowling
fiercely, as if he were trying to strike terror to the boy's heart by
his very appearance, he loosened his grasp on Frank's throat, and the
latter, after coughing and swallowing to overcome the effects of the
choking he had received, demanded:
"What do you mean, you villain?"
Pierre, without making any reply, coolly proceeded to overhaul the
contents of Frank's pockets. Like all boys of his age, our hero was
supplied with a variety of articles, which, however serviceable they may
be to a youngster of sixteen, no one else could possibly find use for,
and the Ranchero's investigations brought to light a fish-line,
bait-box, a rooster's spur, of which Frank intended to make a charger
for his rifle, a piece of buckskin, half a dozen bullets, a brass
cannon, a pocket comb, a quill pop-gun, a small compass, a silver ring,
a match-box, a jack-knife, and a piece of lead. These articles he
tossed upon the floor, rather contemptuously, and then turned all
Frank's pockets inside out, but failed to discover any thing more.
"Where are they?" demanded Pierre, removing the knife from his mouth,
and looking savagely at his prisoner, who all this time had lain
perfectly still upon the floor, apparently not the least alarmed.
"Where are what?" inquired Frank.
"The keys, you young vagabond!" returned the Ranchero, astonished at the
result of his search, and in a great hurry to get through with his
business. "The keys that open the office and the safe. Speak quick!"
"The safe key is where you'll never get your hands upon it," replied
Frank. "If you want it, you'll have to go to San Diego, catch Uncle
James, and throw him down, as you did me, and search his pockets for it.
But that is something a dozen such fellows as you couldn't do."
"But the office key! Where's that?"
"It's in a safe place, also," said Frank, who had already resolved that
the would-be robber should never learn from him where he had hidden the
key. "If I were a man, I should like to see you hold me down so easily.
Let me up, or I'll call for help!"
"If you speak above your breath, I'll choke you!" said Pierre, with
savage emphasis. "I am not done with you yet! Is the money in the safe?"
"That's none of your business! Let me up, I say! Here, Marmion!
Marmion!"
"_Carrajo!_" muttered the Ranchero, again seizing his prisoner's throat
in his powerful fingers. "Do you want me to kill you?"
Frank, nothing daunted by this rough treatment, struggled manfully, and
tried hard to make a defiant reply, but could not utter a sound. Pierre
tightened his grasp, until it seemed as if he had deliberately resolved
to send him out of the world altogether, and then released his hold, and
waited until Frank was able to speak before he said:
"You see that I am in earnest! Now, answer me! Is the gold in the safe?"
"I am in earnest, too!" replied Frank, as bravely as ever. "I shall not
tell you where it is. Are you going to let me up?"
"I am going to make you tell where you have put that key!" said Pierre,
as he removed the sash his prisoner wore around his waist, and began to
confine his arms behind his back. "If I once get inside the office, I'll
soon find out where you have put that gold."
"But you are not inside the office yet, and I don't think you will get
there very soon. If you were well acquainted with me, you would know
that you can not drive me one inch. You're a coward, Pierre," he added,
as he released one of his hands by a sudden jerk, and made a desperate
but unsuccessful attempt to seize the ruffian by the hair. "You don't
give a fellow a fair chance. I wish my dog was here."
"You need not look for him," said the Ranchero; "he'll never come."
Frank made no reply. He was wondering what his captor intended to do
with him, and turning over in his mind numerous wild plans for escape.
Pierre, in his haste, was tying the sash in a very clumsy manner, and
Frank was certain that, with one vigorous twist, he could set himself
at liberty. In spite of his unpleasant and even painful situation--for,
after his attempt to catch the Ranchero by the hair, the latter had
turned him upon his face, and was kneeling upon him to hold him down--he
could not help chuckling to himself when he thought how he would
astonish Pierre if he did not mind what he was about.
"Perhaps he will leave me, and try to force an entrance into the
office," soliloquized Frank. "If he does, I am all right! I'll jerk my
arms out of this sash, pick up that rifle, and the first thing Mr.
Pierre Costello knows, he'll be the prisoner. I'll march him to the
quarters, and tell Felix to tie him, hand and foot."
Unfortunately for the success of these plans, the Ranchero did not leave
the room after he had tied Frank's arms. He was too well acquainted with
the old house to think of trying to force an entrance into the office.
He knew that the doors and window-shutters were as strong as wood and
iron could make them, and that it would be a dangerous piece of business
to attempt to break them open. Felix, all unconscious of what was going
on in the house, snored lustily in his quarters, and the housekeeper
slept in a room adjoining the kitchen; and if Pierre awakened either of
them, he might bid good-by to all hopes of ever securing possession of
the gold. His only hope was in compelling Frank to tell where he had put
the office key.
"Now, then," said he, "I will give you one more chance. Where is it?"
"Where's what?" asked Frank.
"The office key!" exclaimed the Ranchero, enraged at the coolness of his
prisoner. "Tell me where it is, or I'll drive you through the floor!"
As he said this, he raised his fist over Frank's head, as if he were on
the point of putting his threat into execution.
"Drive away!" replied Frank.
"Then you won't tell me where it is?" yelled the Ranchero.
"No, I won't! And when I say no, I mean it; and all the threats you can
make won't scare me into saying any thing else!"
Pierre hesitated a moment, and then jumped to his feet, his actions
indicating that he was determined to waste no more words. He placed his
knife upon the table, closed the windows, and dropped the curtains, so
that any one who might happen to pass by could not see what was going on
in the room. His next action was to seize Frank by the collar of his
jacket, and pull him roughly to his feet, preparatory to putting into
operation his new plan for compelling him to tell where he had hidden
the office key.
"If you conclude to answer my question, let me know it," said the
Ranchero.
"I will," was Frank's reply.
Pierre stepped upon a chair, and removing one of the pictures from its
hook, tossed it upon the bed. After that, he took Frank's lasso down
from the nail, beside the book-case, and holding the noose in his hand,
threw the other end over the hook.
Frank had thus far shown himself to be possessed of a good share of
courage. He had bravely endured the choking, and had made defiant
replies to all Pierre's threats; but when he saw this movement, he
became thoroughly alarmed. He knew what was coming.
"Aha!" exclaimed the Ranchero, who had not failed to notice the sudden
pallor that overspread the boy's countenance; "Aha!"
"What are you going to do?" asked Frank, in a trembling voice.
"Can't you see?" returned the Ranchero, with a savage smile. "I told you
that I was going to make you tell me where you had put that office key,
didn't I? Well, I intend to do it. I have tamed many a wild colt, and I
know how to tame you!"
As he spoke, he adroitly threw the noose over Frank's head, and drew it
tight around his neck. Then, seizing him by the shoulders, he pushed him
against the wall, under the hook, and pulled down on the lasso, until
Frank began to rise on his toes. This was intended merely to give him a
foretaste of what was in store for him.
"Now you know how it feels," said Pierre, slackening up on the rope,
"and you ought to know, by this time, that I am not playing with you. I
am in sober earnest, and if you don't answer my question, I'll hang
you, right here in your own room, and with your own lasso. This is your
last chance! Where's that key?"
Frank hesitated.