CONCLUSION.
Archie had been so fully occupied with the traitor that he had not
thought of his other enemies, and for a moment he lay upon the ground
beside his antagonist, gazing at Antoine in speechless amazement.
Resistance, of course, was not to be thought of, and it also seemed
useless to make any attempts at escape; for he had been so nearly
exhausted by his struggle with Arthur, that he scarcely possessed the
power to rise from the ground. "I am caught easy enough," thought he,
"and I might as well give up first as last."
"I see before me twenty thousand dollars," said Antoine, hastily coiling
up his lasso as he approached.
These words acted like a spur upon Archie's flagging spirits. He no
longer thought of surrender: on the contrary, almost before he knew it,
he found himself on his feet and going down the mountain like the wind.
"_Carrajo!_" yelled the Ranchero, swinging his lasso around his head.
Archie was afraid of that lasso, for he knew that he was in danger as
long as he was within reach of it; but fortunately he had been too quick
for Antoine. He heard the lariat whistle through the air behind him, and
snap like a whip close to his ear, and then he knew that his enemy had
missed his mark.
"Santa Maria!" shouted the robber. "Stop, you young vagabond, or I'll
shoot you."
The fugitive was not frightened by this threat. He was not afraid of
being shot, nor did he believe that he could be overtaken in a fair
race; for, now that he got started, he found that he had wind enough
left for a long run. He had lived among the Rancheros long enough to
know that they were very poor marksmen, and that they could not boast of
their swiftness of foot; and, having escaped the lasso, his spirits rose
again, and hope lent him wings. He heard Antoine crushing through the
bushes in pursuit, but the sound grew fainter and fainter as he sped on
his way. He jumped over rocks and logs, and cleared ravines that at
almost any other time would have effectually checked his progress, and
when he reached the thick woods at the base of the mountains, the
Ranchero was out of sight and hearing.
Archie was well aware of the fact that he had now reached the most
dangerous part of his route homeward. The chief had ordered the band to
"scatter out" when they reached the end of the pass, and he knew that
every road that led toward the settlement was closely watched. He knew,
also, that his only chance for escape was to avoid these roads and keep
in the thickest part of the woods. He sat down behind some bushes to
rest for a few moments, and then started on again, sometimes creeping on
his hands and knees, making use of every log and rock to cover his
retreat, and stopping frequently to examine the woods in front of him,
and to listen for sounds of pursuit. He had accomplished about a mile in
this way, when he found himself in one of the numerous bridle-paths that
ran through the mountains in every direction, and, what was worse, he
saw the scowling visage of Pierre Costello arise from behind a log not
ten paces from him. With the same glance he saw something else; and that
was a crouching figure in buckskin, which was creeping stealthily toward
the robber.
"Here's one caught," said Pierre, stepping into the path and walking
toward Archie. "None of your tricks, now; you can't escape."
"I don't intend to try," replied Archie, with a boldness that astonished
the robber. "Your game is up, Mr. Pierre, and I advice you to surrender
quietly, if you don't want to get hurt!"
"What!" exclaimed the Ranchero. "Surrender! If you know what you are
about, you will not offer any resistance. I am a desperate man."
The robber spoke these words boldly enough, but he evidently did not
like the looks of things. He gazed earnestly at Archie, as if trying to
determine what it was that had encouraged him to show so bold a front,
and seeing that he held one hand behind him, Pierre came to the
conclusion that he must, by some means, have secured possession of a
revolver.
"Drop that weapon, and hold your arms above your head," said the robber.
Archie did not move. While he appeared to be looking steadily at the
chief, he was really watching the movements of the figure in buckskin,
which had all this while been working its way quickly, but noiselessly,
through the bushes, and had now approached within a few feet of the
Ranchero.
"Did you hear what I said?" demanded the latter, placing his hand on one
of his revolvers. "You are my prisoner."
"Well, then, why don't you come and take me?" asked Archie.
At this moment a slight rustling in the leaves caught the quick ear of
the robber, who turned suddenly, uttered a cry of alarm, and fled down
the path, closely followed by something that to Archie looked like a
gray streak, so swiftly did it move. But it was not a gray streak--it
was Dick Lewis, who, after a few of his long strides, collared the
Ranchero with one hand and threw him to the ground, and with the other
seized the revolver he was trying to draw, and wrested it from his
grasp. Pierre struggled desperately, but to no purpose, for the trapper
handled him as easily as though he had been a child.
"Now, then, you tarnal Greaser," exclaimed Dick, "your jig's danced, an'
you must settle with the fiddler. If I only had you out on the prairie,
I'd larn you a few things I reckon you never heern tell on. Come here,
you keerless feller, an' tell me if you 'member what I said to you
yesterday! Whar's Frank?"
Before Archie had time to reply, an incident happened, which, had the
trapper been a less experienced man than he was, would have turned his
triumph into defeat very suddenly. He had more than one enemy to contend
with, and the first intimation he had of the fact, was a sound that
Archie had heard so often since his residence in California that it had
become familiar to him--the whistling noise made by a lariat in its
passage through the air. Before Archie could look around to discover
whence this new danger came, he saw the trapper stretched at full length
on the ground. For an instant his heart stood still; but it was only
for an instant, for Dick was on his feet again immediately, and Archie
drew a long breath of relief when he saw the lasso, which he feared had
settled around his friend's neck, glide harmlessly over his shoulder.
The trapper, from force of long habit, was always on the watch for
danger, and when he heard that whistling sound in the air, he did not
stop to look for his enemy, but dropped like a flash to avoid the lasso;
and when he arose to his feet his long rifle was leveled at a thicket of
bushes in front of him.
"Show yourself, Greaser!" cried Dick.
The concealed enemy obeyed without an instant's hesitation, and when he
stepped into the path, Archie saw that it was Antoine Mercedes.
"Thar's nothin' like knowin' the tricks of the varmints," said Dick,
coolly, as he handed his rifle to Archie, and proceeded to disarm
Antoine. "If I had been a greenhorn, I should have been well-nigh choked
to death by this time; but a man who has seed prairy life, soon larns
that his ears was made for use as well as his eyes. Now, little un,
whar's the rest of them fellers?"
While the trapper was engaged in confining his prisoners' arms with
their own lassos, Archie gave him a rapid account of all that had
happened during his captivity, dwelling with a good deal of emphasis on
the treachery of Arthur Vane. Dick opened his eyes in astonishment, and,
when Archie had finished his story, declared that they would be serving
Arthur right if they were to leave him among the robbers.
"Why, he doesn't want to get away from them," said Archie. "He is with
them now, hunting for us. He and I had a fight not half an hour ago,
and, if Antoine had only stayed away a few minutes longer, Arthur would
have been a prisoner too."
At this moment, a party of Rancheros galloped up, led by Uncle James and
Mr. Harris, and accompanied by the dogs, which the boys--who had
intended to devote the most of their time to stalking the elks, which
were abundant in the mountains--had left at home. Marmion and Carlo made
every demonstration of joy at seeing Archie once more, and Mr. Winters
greeted him as though he had not met him for years.
Without any unnecessary delay, a trusty herdsman was dismounted, and
sent back to the ranch with the prisoners, and Archie mounted his horse.
"You had better go home," said Mr. Winters, looking at his nephew's rags
and bruises.
"Oh no, uncle," said Archie, quickly. "I promised Frank and Johnny that,
if I succeeded in getting away, I wouldn't sleep until they were safe
among friends. I want to go with you."
Uncle James did not urge the matter, and Dick, although he shook his
head at Archie, and called him a "keerless feller," was proud of his
pluck.
The trapper, who was the acknowledged leader of the party, set out at a
rapid trot toward the pass, but had not gone far, when he stopped, and
turned his head on one side to listen. "Spread out, fellers," said he,
waving his hand toward the bushes on each side of him. "Thar's something
comin'."
The horsemen separated, and took up their positions on each side of the
path. They could hear nothing but the chirping of the birds, and the
sighing of the wind through the branches above their heads; but they had
not been long in their concealments before they found that Dick had not
been deceived. The clatter of a horse's hoofs on the hard path, faint
and far off at first, but growing louder as the animal approached, came
to their ears, and presently Roderick appeared in sight. The first thing
Archie noticed was, that he wore neither saddle nor bridle; the second,
that he carried Frank and Johnny on his back. One of Frank's hands was
twisted in the horse's mane, and his body was tightly clasped in the
arms of Johnny, who sat behind him. Archie had never seen the mustang
run so swiftly before, and he made up his mind that, if any of the
Rancheros were pursuing him, they might as well give up the chase. He
also thought that Frank and Johnny would enjoy a long ride before they
got a chance to put their feet on the ground again; for Roderick was
plainly stampeded. It was fortunate that Dick had sent them into the
bushes; for, had the party been in the path then, some of them would
have been run down, and, perhaps, trampled to death.
"Out of the way there, Greaser!" shouted Frank, when he discovered the
trapper standing in the path.
Dick was not a Greaser; but he thought it best to get out of the way;
and Frank would have gone by him, had not Carlo and Marmion recognized
their masters, and set up a howl of welcome.
"Whoa!" shouted Johnny and Frank, in concert, and Roderick stopped so
suddenly that both his riders were thrown forward on his neck.
"Come here, you boy that fit that ar' Greaser, an' tell me all about it,
to onct," exclaimed Dick. "Be they follerin' you?"
"Not that we know of. We haven't seen any of them since daylight. Lend
me your lasso, Carlos, and we'll go back and hunt up Archie."
But Archie was already found, and when he rode out of the bushes, Frank
was relieved of a great deal of anxiety. He had not seen his cousin
since he left the glade, and he feared that he had been re-captured; or,
what was worse, had slipped off the ledge into the gorge.
A consultation was now held, and, after Uncle James and Mr. Harris had
listened to the boys' story, they decided that it would be a waste of
time to search for Arthur Vane. The latter's conduct had induced the
belief that he was a friend of the robbers, and could go and come when
he pleased. No doubt, when he got tired of life in the mountains, he
would return home of his own free will. The party would keep on to the
glade, however, and recover Sleepy Sam, and the boys' weapons. When this
had been decided upon, Dick's horse, which he had hidden in the bushes,
was brought out for Johnny, a lasso was twisted around Roderick's lower
jaw, to serve as a bridle, and then the trapper shouldered his long
rifle, and gave another exhibition of his "travelin' qualities." He kept
the horses in a steady gallop, sometimes "letting out" a little on
getting far in advance of them, and, when he stopped at the entrance to
the pass, he seemed as fresh as ever.
The boys had expressed the hope that they would surprise some of the
robbers in the glade, but were disappointed. They found their saddles,
bridles, blankets, and weapons, however, and Archie recovered his horse,
which was standing contentedly beside the spring, half asleep, as usual.
Every thing was gathered up, including a few articles the robbers had
left behind, and, as they rode toward the settlement, the boys told each
other that the next time they went hunting, after Pierre's band had all
been captured, they would camp in the glade.
Archie was confined to the house for a day or two after that; but, if
his body was stiff and bruised, his tongue was all right, and it was a
long time before he got through relating the incidents of his fight with
the traitor.
Frank and Johnny had met with no adventures, not having seen any of the
band after they left the glade. They crossed the ledge without
accident--although they confessed that they would think twice before
trying it again--and, when they reached the end of the pass, they
concealed themselves in a hollow log until morning. When they were about
to continue their flight, they discovered the mustang, which, unwilling
to be left alone in the glade, had crossed the ledge, and was on his way
home. Frank easily caught him; but, knowing his favorite's disposition
as well as he did, hesitated about requiring him to carry double;
however, he finally decided that Roderick was large enough and strong
enough to carry them both, and that he must do it, or take the
consequences. Frank thereupon mounted the animal, Johnny climbed up
behind him, and Roderick, after a few angry kicks, consented to the
arrangement. Believing the boldest course to be the safest, they put the
horse to the top of his speed, trusting to his momentum to overcome any
thing that might endeavor to obstruct the path.
While Archie was confined to the house, Dick and old Bob were busy, and
their efforts were rewarded by the capture of three more of the band,
who were sent to San Diego with the others. Only one was left now, and
that was Joaquin, who had thus far successfully eluded pursuit. The
traitor was also missing; and, although Mr. Vane kept his herdsmen in
the mountains continually, nothing had been seen of him. Arthur was
paying the penalty of his treachery, and was being punished in a way he
had not thought of. After his unsuccessful attempt to capture Archie
Winters, he went down the mountain to the place where he had left his
horse, and there he found Joaquin, who had narrowly escaped a ball from
the rifle of old Bob Kelly. He was in ill-humor about something, but his
face brightened when he discovered Arthur.
"We must be off at once," said he. "The mountains are full of men."
"I believe I'll go home," replied Arthur. "I am going to ask my father
to give me money enough to take me back to Kentucky; for, of course, I
can't live here after what I have done. Before I go, however, I want to
tell you, that you and your friends are a set of blockheads. If I had
known that you would be so stupid as to allow those fellows to escape, I
shouldn't have had any thing to do with you. Good-by, Joaquin."
"Not quite so fast, my lad," said the Ranchero, seizing Arthur's horse
by the bridle. "You are worth as much to us as the others."
"What do you mean?" exclaimed Arthur.
"I mean that you are a prisoner, and that you must stay here with us. I
hope you understand that?"
Arthur was thunderstruck. "Why, Joaquin," said he, "Pierre promised me
faithfully that I should be treated as a visitor, and that no ransom
should be demanded for me."
"And did you put any faith in that promise? When your father gives us
twenty thousand dollars, you can go, and not before."
Arthur cried, begged, and threatened in vain. Joaquin was firm, and the
traitor was obliged to accompany him to the mountains. That night he
wrote to his father, informing him of his situation, and Joaquin, after
tying his prisoner to a tree, and gagging him, to prevent him from
shouting for assistance, rode to the settlement, and left the note on
Mr. Vane's door-step.
During the three weeks following, Arthur led a most miserable life. He
had nothing to eat but dried meat, and but little of that. His captor
treated him very harshly, tying him to a tree every night, to prevent
his escape, and moving him about in the day-time, from place to place,
to avoid capture. It soon became known in the settlement, that Arthur
was held as a prisoner, and the search was conducted with redoubled
energy. Joaquin was constantly on the alert, but he was caught at last;
for, one day, just as he and Arthur were about to sit down to their
dinner of dried meat, Frank, Archie, and Johnny suddenly appeared in
sight, accompanied by the two trappers. Archie had repeatedly declared
that he owed the traitor a debt, which he intended to settle the very
first time he met him; but when he saw what a wretched condition Arthur
was in, he relented, and pitied him from the bottom of his heart.
Joaquin was sent to San Diego to be dealt with according to law, and
Arthur went home. He did not remain there long; but, as soon as he was
able to travel, started for Kentucky, and every one was glad that he had
gone.
Frank and Archie could tell stories now that were worth listening to.
They had seen exciting times since their arrival in California, had
been the heroes of some thrilling adventures, and they never got weary
of talking over the incidents that transpired during their captivity
AMONG THE RANCHEROS.
THE END.
THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.'S POPULAR JUVENILES.
J.T. TROWBRIDGE.
Neither as a writer does he stand apart from the great currents of life
and select some exceptional phase or odd combination of circumstances.
He stands on the common level and appeals to the universal heart, and
all that he suggests or achieves is on the plane and in the line of
march of the great body of humanity.
The Jack Hazard series of stories, published in the late _Our Young
Folks_, and continued in the first volume of _St. Nicholas_, under the
title of "Fast Friends," is no doubt destined to hold a high place in
this class of literature. The delight of the boys in them (and of their
seniors, too) is well founded. They go to the right spot every time.
Trowbridge knows the heart of a boy like a book, and the heart of a man,
too, and he has laid them both open in these books in a most successful
manner. Apart from the qualities that render the series so attractive to
all young readers, they have great value on account of their
portraitures of American country life and character. The drawing is
wonderfully accurate, and as spirited as it is true. The constable,
Sellick, is an original character, and as minor figures where will we
find anything better than Miss Wansey, and Mr. P. Pipkin, Esq. The
picture of Mr. Dink's school, too, is capital, and where else in fiction
is there a better nick-name than that the boys gave to poor little
Stephen Treadwell, "Step Hen," as he himself pronounced his name in an
unfortunate moment when he saw it in print for the first time in his
lesson in school.
On the whole, these books are very satisfactory, and afford the critical
reader the rare pleasure of the works that are just adequate, that
easily fulfill themselves and accomplish all they set out to
do.--_Scribner's Monthly_.
JACK HAZARD SERIES.
6 vols. BY J.T. TROWBRIDGE $7.25
Jack Hazard and His Fortunes.
Doing His Best.
The Young Surveyor.
A Chance for Himself.
Past Friends.
Lawrence's Adventures.
* * * * *
CHARLES ASBURY STEPHENS.
This author wrote his "Camping Out Series" at the very height of his
mental and physical powers.
"We do not wonder at the popularity of these books; there is a freshness
and variety about them, and an enthusiasm in the description of sport
and adventure, which even the older folk can hardly fail to
share."--_Worcester Spy_.
"The author of the Camping Out Series is entitled to rank as decidedly
at the head of what may be called boys' literature."--_Buffalo Courier_.
CAMPING OUT SERIES.
By C.A. STEPHENS.
All books in this series are 12mo. with eight full page illustrations.
Cloth, extra, 75 cents.
CAMPING OUT. As Recorded by "Kit."
"This book is bright, breezy, wholesome, instructive, and stands above
the ordinary boys' books of the day by a whole head and
shoulders."--_The Christian Register_, Boston.
LEFT ON LABRADOR; OR, THE CRUISE OF THE SCHOONER YACHT
"CURLEW." As Recorded by "Wash."
"The perils of the voyagers, the narrow escapes, their strange
expedients, and the fun and jollity when danger had passed, will make
boys even unconscious of hunger."--_New Bedford Mercury_.
OFF TO THE GEYSERS; OR THE YOUNG YACHTERS IN ICELAND. As
Recorded by "Wade."
"It is difficult to believe that Wade and Read and Kit and Wash were not
live boys, sailing up Hudson Straits, and reigning temporarily over an
Esquimaux tribe."--_The Independent_, New York.
LYNX HUNTING: From Notes by the Author of "Camping Out."
"Of first quality as a boys' book, and fit to take its place beside the
best."--_Richmond Enquirer_.
FOX HUNTING. As Recorded by "Raed."
"The most spirited and entertaining book that has as yet appeared. It
overflows with incident, and is characterized by dash and brilliancy
throughout."--_Boston Gazette_.
ON THE AMAZON; OR, THE CRUISE OF THE "RAMBLER." As Recorded by
"Wash."
"Gives vivid pictures of Brazilian adventure and scenery."--_Buffalo
Courier_.
End of Project Gutenberg's Frank Among The Rancheros, by Harry Castlemon