A BORDER BOY ERRANT.
But the bullets which had been meant to terminate Jack’s career had
not found their “billet.” Instead, his sudden fall to one side of the
saddle was a quick acting out of an old cowboy trick. The instant that
the first bullet had whistled by his ear Jack had flung himself down
thus, and as a consequence, the shots had missed their mark. The relief
of Walt and Ralph, as they came elbowing through the crowd to find that
their chum was unhurt, may be imagined.
The incident, too, had quite changed the temper of the crowd, as such
things often will. An unpopular monarch has often been turned into his
people’s idol by an attempted assassination, and something of the same
thing occurred now. Cheers for the American boy rang through the air.
In the midst of the excitement Don Alverado came riding up, pressing
his big chestnut horse through the throng.
“Thank the saints you are not injured, my gallant boy,” he cried in his
impulsive way. “Not for my entire estates would I have had you even
scratched. But what is this?”
The Don broke off in his congratulations abruptly, as a sudden
commotion occurred on the outskirts of the crowd. Rising in his
stirrups Jack could see that the center of the turmoil was Coyote Pete,
and that he was dragging something at the end of his lariat, one end of
which was wound around his saddle horn.
Suddenly the crowd rushed in on this object, whatever it was, but the
next instant the wave of humanity surged back again, as Coyote drew two
pistols and aimed them right and left into the throng.
“The first one that touches the varmint gits a taste of these!” he was
shouting, and although few in the crowd could understand the words,
they all caught the significance of his tones and fell back. Thus,
left with a free path, Coyote spurred his horse on and rode up to
where the Don and the Border Boys were assembled. The professor had,
by this time, joined the group and brought word that Senorita Alverado
wished to be informed at once of Jack’s condition, and if he had been
seriously injured. Word was at once despatched to her that he was
unharmed.
What Coyote Pete had at the end of his lariat was now at once apparent.
It was a human being who struggled to his feet as the cow-puncher drew
rein. Covered with dust as the man was, and bleeding from his not over
gentle treatment by the first of the crowd who had rushed in on him,
Jack yet had no difficulty in recognizing the man as the tall Mexican
who had been defeated, and who had declared his intention of shutting
out the American boy by fair means or foul.
“What is this?” demanded the Don, as the abject object stood cringing
and whining before him.
“This is the pesky critter that fired them shots at Jack Merrill, your
Donship!” announced Coyote. “Stand up thar, you dirty dog, and let
’em git a good look at you. Yer see,” he went on, “arter that hat was
thrown at Jack, I was on the lookout fer dirty work, so I jest took up
my stand near the tilting post, fer I judged thet if thar was truble it
’ud come thar. Wall, I seen this fellow miss and ther look on his face
when he realized it. ‘Ole hoss,’ thinks I, ‘I’ll jes’ watch you close.’
Wall, I did, but afore I could stop him he fired them shots. Arter that
he sneaked off in the crowd, but I got arter him with my lariat, and I
reckon I got him good an’ tight and hog-tied for branding.”
The Don’s face grew black.
“I know this fellow,” he said, “he is a former employee of mine whom I
discharged for quarreling and gambling. But this outrage will terminate
his career. As a magistrate of this district, I convene court here and
sentence him to——”
But with a piercing scream the abject being whom Coyote had lassoed
cast himself on the ground. He writhed, he dug at the dirt with his
nails, he grovelled and begged in an agony of terror. But the Don
was unmoved. It was different with Jack, however. While the fellow’s
cowardice disgusted him, at the same time he felt a faint sentiment of
pity. At any rate, he did not wish human life taken on his account.
Just then a woman rushed through the crowd holding a child by each
hand. Word flew around that it was the would-be assassin’s wife and
children. This decided Jack. Pressing his pony forward, he rode to Don
Alverado’s side.
“Don’t you think, sir, that leniency might be observed in this case?”
he said. “The man’s wife and children, the excitement, the chagrin of
losing the contest, and——”
“Say no more; say no more,” was the abrupt reply. In fact, at the
sight of the man’s terrified wife and bewildered children, the Don
himself had experienced a feeling of compunction, “Jose, your life is
saved——”
The abject creature sprang up, pouring out a fulsome stream of thanks
and blessings. But the Don abruptly checked him.
“Had it not been for your wife and children, and for the noble
intercession of this young man whom you attempted foully to
assassinate, I should have hanged you without loss of time. But their
pleadings have had weight with me——”
“Oh, the blessings of the saints on the caballero’s head,——” began
the Mexican, but once more he was cut short.
“But I only remit your sentence on one condition,” went on the Don,
“and that is that you leave this part of the country forever. My
overseer will supply you with the money. If within twelve hours you are
in the neighborhood of Santa Anita, your life shall pay the penalty.
Now go!”
The Mexican reeled to his feet, and, shunned by the crowd, tottered
off. Only his wife and children clung to him.
“Strange that often the worst of men will have the most faithful
wives and devoted children,” mused the Don. “But come,” he said,
putting aside his momentary gravity, “do not let us mar the day by this
incident. Senor Merrill, you will now proceed to the stand where your
prize awaits you.”
At this the crowd set up a great cheer, and surrounded by his friends,
Jack rode to the grandstand where the senorita, still pale, but
radiant, presented him with the prize. Jack, crimson to the roots of
his hair, stammered out something in reply, he never knew what; and
then bending low he presented the lance tip on which the ring still
reposed to the senorita. With a blush and a smile she took the ring
and snatching a red rose from her hair affixed it to the point of his
lance. What a shout went up then! And in the midst of it our party rode
off, for the roping contest had been called.
“Say, where did you learn that trick, all that bowing and doo-dadds,
and all that?” grinned Walt, as the chums rode side by side.
“Yes, old chap, you acted like a regular knight errant. Polite as a
floor walker,” chortled Ralph; “there’s only one thing you’ve forgotten
to do.”
“What’s that?” asked Jack innocently.
“Why, press the rose to your lips, you chump. I never read of any
regular blown-in-panel knight who didn’t do that.”
“Well, I’m not one of that brand, I guess,” laughed Jack. But just the
same, it may be set down here that he took particular care of that rose
for many a long day.
To his chagrin, Coyote Pete only came off second best in the roping
contest, but, as the boys remarked, “It wouldn’t do for these people to
think we are hogs and want all the prizes.”
“That’s right,” agreed Pete, good humoredly, “an’, as somebody said,
some place ‘thar’s glory enough fer all.’”
Early the next day after participating in the festivities of the
evening, the lads and their elders once more took to the trail. In the
meantime, the professor had attended to the renewing of their supplies
and “scientific paraphernalia,” and they had decided to confide their
adventures and the object of their quest to Don Alverado.
“You are on an adventurous mission,” he commented, “and I wish you all
success.”
Before they set out the generous Don confided to Jack’s care a document
in Spanish.
“If you fall in with any government officials,” he said, “that will act
as your safeguard and passport. Adios, señors.”
“Adios!” shouted the boys, as they rode off. Jack, looking back in the
early dawn, thought he saw a handkerchief fluttering from an upper
window of the hacienda. At any rate, he waved his sombrero gallantly
and bowed low.
“Guess it’s a good thing we got Jack away from the hacienda,” chortled
Walt, in an audible tone.
“Guess it’ll be a good thing for you to maintain a discreet silence,”
growled Jack, in what was for him such a savage tone that Walt looked
rather alarmed. But before they had gone many miles Jack, who had been
silent and thoughtful, began to become his old self once more under the
influence of the trail and looked-for adventure.
They traveled that day without any incident worth chronicling, and
nightfall found them camped on a fertile plain, deep in waving grasses
and plentifully watered. The level expanse was almost at the foot of
the gloomy Chinipal Range, in which was located the mysterious mountain
in search of which they had journeyed so far. That night all lay down
to rest with the feeling that the morrow would see the beginning of
their real hard work.