ARCHIE LEARNS SOMETHING.
If Don Carlos had only known where his missing guest was all this
while, and what he was doing, and what he was seeing, he would have
had good cause for alarm. Archie was not at home, as Frank fondly
hoped, nor was he outside the rancho. He was in a worse predicament
than he had ever been in before, and was learning some things about
Don Carlos and his house that greatly astonished him.
We said that the last time Frank saw him, he was standing before a
large oil-painting in the room where the Spaniard had left them. It
was a life-size picture of an Indian warrior; and so well was it
executed that, as Archie stood looking at it, he almost expected to
see the savage open his lips to give the war-whoop, and then draw the
bow which he carried in his hand, and discharge an arrow at him.
“The man who painted that was an artist, and understood his business,”
said Archie, to himself. “I have seen lots of those fellows, and
that’s just the way they look.”
Something in the picture, which he had not before noticed, caught his
eye at this moment, and interrupted the thread of his soliloquy. The
handle of the warrior’s hunting-knife, which he wore in his belt, was
rounded off into a knob at the end, and Archie was sure that it stood
out a little way from the canvas. He leaned forward and looked at it
more closely, and sure enough it was a wooden button, which fitted
into the end of the handle of the knife, and not a painted one. He
stepped up and examined it with his fingers, and to his surprise it
yielded to his touch.
“Now I’d like to know what this means,” thought he, pressing the knob
harder than before. “This thing must be attached to a spring, because
it comes back when I let go of it. Well--by--gracious!”
It was very seldom indeed that Archie used any slang words, but
sometimes, when he was greatly excited or astonished, he did like
other boys--forgot all the good resolutions he had made regarding this
bad habit. It was no wonder that he was amazed now, for the painting
began to move as if it had been suddenly endowed with life. It opened
before him like a door, swinging swiftly back on a pair of invisible
hinges, and revealing a narrow, winding stairway which seemed to run
down into a cellar beneath the outer wall. Archie stood like a wooden
boy for a few seconds, his neck outstretched, his eyes dilating and
trying to pierce through the thick darkness which enveloped the
stairs, and then, scarcely knowing what he was about, he stepped
cautiously into the passage. An instant afterward he would have given
every thing he possessed, or ever expected to possess, if he had been
a little more prudent; but then it was too late. The painting swung
back to its place as swiftly and noiselessly as it had opened, and the
smooth click of a spring-lock told Archie that he was a prisoner. He
did not intend to remain one long, however. He understood the mystery
of that secret door, and it would not be many seconds before he would
get out again. Perhaps Frank would now be willing to look up from his
book long enough to hear him tell of this wonderful discovery he had
made; and perhaps, too, he would be ready to believe that he had some
foundation for his suspicions.
Talking thus to himself, Archie groped his way back to the painting
(for now that the opening was closed the passage was as dark as
midnight), and began to pass his hands over it, searching hurriedly
for the concealed spring. He now found that the back of the picture
was formed of heavy oak planks, nearly a foot in thickness; or, to
make the matter clearer, the whole contrivance was simply a ponderous
door, with the painting spread over one side of it to conceal it. But
where was the spring? Archie ran his fingers over every inch of the
door, from top to bottom, but could not find it. He examined every one
of the planks separately, and finally turned his attention to the huge
blocks of stone which formed the walls, in the hope that he might find
the spring imbedded in one of them. Five minutes--ten minutes--a
quarter of an hour were passed in this way, and then Archie sank down
upon the floor, all in a heap, panting and sweating as though he had
been engaged in the most violent exercise. His face was very pale, his
hands trembled as though he were suffering from an attack of the ague,
and one to have seen him at that moment would have believed that he
was almost overcome with fear. His words, however, did not indicate
the fact.
“Now here’s fun,” said he, with a desperate attempt to keep up his
courage; “here’s sport--here’s joy by the wagon-load. I am cornered
easy enough, and it serves me just right for prying about where I had
no business. What will the Don say when he comes back and finds me
gone?”
As this thought passed through Archie’s mind, he sprang to his feet,
the cold perspiration starting out anew from every pore in his body,
and his heart beating fast and furiously. What _would_ the old
Spaniard think when he found that one of his guests was missing, and,
above all, what would he _do_? If he was an innocent man, and Archie’s
suspicions regarding him were without any foundation, he would hunt
him up and release him; there would be a hearty laugh all around; and
the Don would have a long story to tell about the passage-way, the
reasons why he had built it, and the use he had made of it. But
suppose that Archie’s suspicions were correct--that Don Carlos was
really one of the robbers, and that the passage led to some
underground cavern where he and his men concealed their plunder--what
would he do when he found that his secret had been discovered? Archie
did not stop to answer this question, but once more searched all over
the door for the spring; but with no better success than before. Then
he pounded upon the door, and called his cousin; but the walls were
thick, and the sound of his voice did not reach Frank, who read on in
blissful ignorance of what was transpiring on the other side of the
painting.
“He must have gone out,” said Archie, now beginning to be thoroughly
alarmed, “and I am left to my own resources, which are scarce, I can
tell you. What if one of the band should come up here with a light?”
Archie pulled his revolver from his pocket, faced about, and peered
through the darkness in the direction of the stairs, listening
intently, and almost imagining that he heard light footsteps
approaching. But he was alone in the passage-way, and having satisfied
himself on this point, he leaned against the wall to think over the
situation, and determine upon some course of action.
“It would be awkward to be caught here--for the robber, I mean, for it
is my opinion that he would go down those stairs with much greater
haste than he came up. Of course there must be two ends to this
passage, and as I can not get out here, I must try some other way of
escape. I can’t be in a much worse fix than I am now.”
As Archie said this, he put his revolver into his pocket again, and
began feeling his way along the wall toward the stairs. It was a
dangerous undertaking, for the floor might be full of trap-doors, for
all he knew, and one of them might open beneath his feet at any
moment, and let him down into some dungeon; or, he might run against
one of the robbers in the darkness, who would slip a lasso around his
neck, and make a prisoner of him before he could raise an arm to
defend himself. He reached the head of the stairs, however, without
any such misfortune, and slowly and cautiously felt his way to the
bottom. There he found himself in a passage-way which ran at right
angles with the one above. After a moment’s deliberation, he decided
that if he followed it to the left it would lead him under the court
(through which Frank was, at that very moment, running a race with
Pedro for the gate), and that was the way Archie did not want to go.
By turning to the right, if the passage ran far enough in that
direction, he would reach the bank of the creek, and there he might
find some way of escape. Having decided this point, he was about to
move on again, when he was frightened nearly out of his senses by
hearing a whisper close at his elbow:
“Beppo, is this you?”
The fight for which Archie had been bracing his nerves ever since he
first made up his mind to visit Don Carlos’ rancho, was to come off
now--he was sure of that. He was much calmer than he had thought he
could be under such circumstances, but still he trembled violently in
every limb as he drew his revolver, and thrust it straight out before
him in the direction from which the voice came. A person thinks
rapidly when in danger, and during the moment’s pause that followed
the question thus unexpectedly propounded to him, Archie thought over
and rejected a dozen wild schemes which suggested themselves to him.
One, however, he accepted. He would reveal himself to the man, and if
the latter would agree to show him the way above ground, it would be
all right; he would then be willing to believe that Don Carlos was an
honest man, and that there was nothing wrong about him or his rancho.
But if the man made an outcry, and began shouting for help, or tried
to secure him, he would give him some idea of American pluck and
muscle.
“Beppo, is that you?” asked the voice again, in the same cautious
whisper. Then, before Archie had time to act on the resolution he had
just formed, the man, whoever he was, continued: “here are the keys.
We shall be ready in half an hour. Follow this gang-way, and enter the
first door on your left. Be sure and lock the door after you, because
there’s always somebody roaming about here, and you might be
discovered. Do your work well, now, and the revolver is yours.”
A moment afterward Archie stood holding a bunch of keys in his hand,
and listening with beating heart to the retreating footsteps of the
man, who was hurrying toward the other end of the passage. He had
never been more excited and alarmed in his life. If the man had
brought a lantern with him, the fight he had been expecting would
certainly have come off.
When the sound of the footsteps had died away, Archie drew a long
breath of relief, and began to congratulate himself on his escape, and
to repeat what the man had said to him. Two things were evident: one
was that he had been mistaken for Beppo, a Mexican boy about his own
age who was employed on the rancho; the other, that he had some sort
of a secret commission to execute, and that for the faithful
performance of his work, he would be rewarded by the present of a
revolver. What that commission was, Archie neither knew or cared; he
had something of much more importance to think about. Suppose the man
should happen to meet the genuine Beppo, and should find out that he
had given the keys to somebody else! Would he not try to ascertain who
that some one else was, and wouldn’t he call for help, and begin a
thorough search of the rancho?
“I haven’t a single instant to lose,” said Archie, to himself. “Let me
see! I must follow this gang-way and open the first door on my left,
and be sure and lock it after me. I don’t much like to do it, for
there is no knowing what I may find in that room. I hope one of these
keys will let me out of this den of robbers.”
So saying, Archie began to feel his way along the left wall of the
passage, and presently came to the door of which the man had spoken,
and which he succeeded in opening after trying several of his keys.
Hastily passing through the door, he closed and locked it, and then
began to feel a little more secure; although he did not know which way
to turn next. If he kept straight ahead, he might come in contact
with some object, or step upon one of those trap-doors he so much
dreaded. After a little hesitation he placed his hands upon the wall,
and began moving slowly around the apartment, but had not taken more
than half a dozen steps before he ran against something. A moment’s
examination showed him that it was a table, with several articles upon
it--a bowie-knife, a brace of pistols, two or three lassos, a lantern,
and a box of matches. These last were just what he had been wishing
for. He lighted the lantern, and then turned to take a survey of the
room. It proved to be a sort of armory and depot of supplies. The
walls were covered with weapons, and saddles, bridles, blankets,
ponchos, and numerous other articles of like description, were
scattered about over the floor. A hundred horsemen could have been
equipped from that room.
As soon as Archie had satisfied himself that he was alone, he began to
examine the objects about him a little more closely; and almost the
first thing his eyes rested on was a piece of property belonging to
himself.
“Isn’t it lucky that I didn’t speak to that man?” he soliloquized.
“Didn’t I say that old Spaniard was one of the robbers? That’s my
saddle. I would know it among a million. It is the very one that was
on Sleepy Sam when Uncle James bought him in St. Joseph. Now, my horse
is in this very rancho; and he isn’t far off, either. This settles the
question of Don Carlos’ guilt.”
Archie now became doubly anxious to effect his escape from the rancho.
The man who had given him the keys had told him that some one was
always roaming about those passage-ways, and as long as he remained
there he was in danger of discovery. But he had said that if his horse
was in that rancho, he would have him out, and he was going to keep
his word. He would not think of going home until he had found him.
Once on his back, and outside of the walls of the rancho, he could
laugh at the robbers. If Roderick was there, he would take him, too.
He hoped to be able to secure both horses, and make good his retreat
without being discovered; and if he could do that, wouldn’t he
astonish his cousin when he came home in the morning? But something
prevented Archie from carrying out this plan. As it happened, Frank
was the one who recovered the horses; and if it had not been for him
and Roderick, Archie would never have mounted King James again.
Archie’s first care was to take possession of the weapons he found on
the table; then he raised his lantern, and took another survey of the
room. He saw a door opposite to the one by which he had entered; and
when he had opened it, he found that it led into a long, low
apartment, which was used as a stable. It contained several horses,
which the robbers had selected and kept on account of their great
speed and endurance, and conspicuous among them stood Roderick and
King James.
“Aha!” exclaimed Archie.
“Santa Maria!” cried somebody else.
Archie looked up, and there was Beppo. His mouth and eyes were wide
open, and he stood gazing at the intruder as if he could not quite
make up his mind whether he was a solid flesh-and-blood boy, or only
an apparition. The fight must come off now, and Archie was ready for
it.