AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.
“Bars an’ buffaler! You keerless feller!” exclaimed the trapper,
pulling out his knife and liberating Frank’s hands and feet. “I reckon
you’ve seed fun enough fur one day, haint you? You’ll never come
nigher to bein’ rubbed out nor you were a minit ago without goin’; I
can tell you that. Now toddle. We aint out of danger yet, by no
means.”
There was no time for greetings and congratulations. Scarcely had the
trapper lifted Frank to his feet, when a clatter of hoofs was heard,
and upon looking up the two friends saw a squad of Rancheros coming
toward them at the top of their speed. Frank, without an instant’s
hesitation, acted upon the trapper’s suggestion, and started for the
woods; while Dick ran off in the opposite direction, loading his rifle
as he went.
Frank, wearied with his former exertions, and aching in every limb
from the effects of the rough treatment he had received at the hands
of his enemies, was in no condition for a long run; but, even had he
been in the best of trim, he could not have hoped to escape. The
Rancheros were mounted, and they had thrown themselves between him and
the woods. Still, he exerted himself to the utmost, and his speed,
although greatly diminished, would have carried him ahead of every one
of his enemies had they been on foot. But the swift horses quickly
overtook him, and one of his pursuers, without in the least slackening
his pace, galloped up beside him and seized him with both hands.
“You’re caught now,” said he, in a tone of great satisfaction, “and I
am a poor herdsman no longer. I’m rich.”
The Ranchero did not attempt to lift Frank upon his horse, but held
fast to his collar, and dragged him over the ground. He went at the
top of his speed, and whenever Frank tried to regain his feet, so that
he could run along beside his captor, the latter would touch his
horse with his spurs, and the animal would spring forward so suddenly
that Frank would be thrown back again. It was a most uncomfortable and
painful situation to be in, but, strange as it may appear, Frank made
no attempt at escape; indeed, he scarcely bestowed a thought upon
himself. A scene which he had witnessed just after his enemy seized
him, had deprived him of every particle of courage and strength. He
had seen the friend who had stood by him through innumerable dangers
strangled before his very eyes.
We said that, when Frank ran toward the woods, the trapper started off
in the opposite direction. He had done this, hoping to draw the
attention of the Mexicans to himself, and thus give Frank a chance for
escape. He had succeeded in one part of his object, and failed in the
other. Three of the Rancheros wheeled their horses and started in
pursuit of him, while the others kept on after Frank. They had no
desire to take the trapper alive, for the Don had not offered a reward
of fifty thousand dollars for him; but they believed that he was quite
as dangerous to them as Frank was, for he was acquainted with their
secret. They had tried their best to shoot him when they met him in
the woods, but Dick had escaped unhurt. Now they had caught him on the
open prairie, where they could use their lassos, and they were
determined that he should not return home to tell his friends what he
knew about Don Carlos and his rancho. They charged toward the trapper
with loud yells, discharging their pistols at him with one hand, and
swinging their lariats around their heads with the other. One of their
number rode to his death, for when Dick’s rifle cracked, the foremost
Mexican threw up his arms, and fell heavily from his saddle; but
before the trapper could turn to run, a lasso was thrown over his
head, and he was pulled to the ground. A yell of defiance rang out on
the air, and then the Ranchero wheeled his horse and galloped off,
dragging his victim after him.
Frank could scarcely credit his senses. Was it possible that the
redoubtable Dick Lewis, the hero of a thousand desperate encounters,
had met his match at last, and in these cowardly Mexicans, too? It did
not seem to him that it could be so, and yet the whole thing had
transpired in plain view. If Dick had possessed the strength of a
dozen men, he could not have escaped while that lasso was around his
neck. Beyond a doubt, Frank had seen the last of him. The brave fellow
had lost his life in trying to save him, and the boy could not have
been more horrified if he had heard his own doom pronounced. He closed
his eyes, that he might not see the terrible sight; and when he opened
them again, his captor was on the point of dragging him into the
woods. Still urging his horse forward with reckless speed, he now
lifted Frank from the ground and laid him across the horn of his
saddle and held him there with one hand, while, with the other, he
guided his horse through the bushes. Arriving at the creek, he dashed
in, and upon reaching the opposite bank, again entered the woods, and
continued his flight as rapidly as ever.
All this while the prisoner’s mind had been so fully occupied with the
scene he had witnessed on the prairie, that he scarcely knew what was
going on; but now he became aware that his captor was not taking him
to the rancho, but that he was making the best of his way toward the
mountains. Frank was at a loss how to account for this, until he
glanced at the dark, lowering face above him. Could he believe his
eyes? He raised his head and looked again; and it is hard to tell
whether he was the more astonished or alarmed. That one look was
enough to satisfy him that his troubles were but just beginning. He
would much rather have found himself in the power of Don Carlos, than
in the hands of the man who was bending over him.
“Ah! You know me, do you?” exclaimed the Mexican, glancing
triumphantly down at his captive. “I’m glad to meet you again.”
“Pierre Costello!” cried Frank, in dismay.
“Ay! It’s Pierre, alive and well, no thanks to you or your friends!”
Frank gazed long and earnestly at the Ranchero. The last time he saw
him he was on his way to the prison at San Diego, bound hand and foot,
and guarded by trusty men; but here he was, in full possession of his
liberty, and ready to carry out the scheme in which he had been
foiled a few weeks before.
“Oh, it’s I,” said the robber, seeing that his prisoner was looking at
him in utter bewilderment. “We were pretty well acquainted at one
time, and it is strange that you do not recognize me.”
“I would know that villainous face of yours among a thousand,” replied
Frank. “I was wondering how you escaped from the prison.”
“Easy enough. It wasn’t strong enough to hold me--that’s all. I didn’t
stay there three days. I came back here, and set myself to watch you;
and now that I have found you, I do not intend to lose sight of you
very soon. When the Don gives me the reward he has offered for you, I
will deliver you up to him. I am taking you to the mountains, because
I want to see the color of the money, before I give you up; and
because I don’t want to be compelled to divide with any one.”
There was no need that Pierre should take the trouble to explain his
plans. Frank knew what they were before he said a word about them, and
he could see no way to prevent them from being carried out. He was
satisfied that it was quite useless to think of escape, and knowing
that it would be the height of folly to provoke Pierre’s anger, he did
not make the slightest show of resistance.
“I shall always hold a grudge against you,” said the Ranchero,
tightening his grasp on Frank’s collar, “and, if it were not for the
money you are worth, I would settle accounts with you in a hurry. I’ve
had two chances to make myself rich, but you knocked my calculations
higher than a kite. I am all right now, however, and if I ever meet
you, after I deliver you up to Don Carlos, you are a goner. But that
is not at all likely,” added the Mexican, “for when the gate of that
rancho once closes upon you, it will never open for you again. The Don
knows how to deal with men who learn his secrets. You are always
meddling with other people’s business, but you have done it now for
the last time.”
Frank listened in silence to this disheartening speech, and told
himself that this was the worst predicament he had ever got into. When
he was delivered into the Don’s hands, the latter would make an end
of him; and if he did not, Pierre would. It was plain that if his
captor could have his own way in the matter, Frank had not much longer
to live.
The course which Pierre was taking to reach the mountains, lay through
a dense forest, which, even in the day-time, was almost impassable for
horsemen. He might have chosen an easier route, but knowing that he
would be followed by his companions, who would not willingly surrender
their claims to a share of the reward, he kept in the deepest part of
the woods to elude their pursuit. His horse went at the top of his
speed, and Frank was jolted about, and dashed against the trees, until
it seemed to him that he could not possibly survive a moment longer.
To his great relief, Pierre brought him to the edge of the woods at
last; and after carrying him some distance up a ravine, stopped his
horse, and began making preparations to bind his captive.
“I shall leave you here for an hour or two,” said he. “I am going back
to the Don, and, if he comes down with the fifty thousand, I’ll turn
you over to him; and if he doesn’t, you and I will lead a free and
easy life here in the mountains, until your uncle ransoms you. I’ve
got two strings to my bow this time.”
Pierre pulled his prisoner to a tree, to which he tied him securely
with his lasso, Frank offering no resistance. He was too weak to lift
a finger in his defense, and, as for remonstrance, he knew that would
be useless, and so he held his peace.
“You take it very coolly,” remarked Pierre. “Why don’t you say
something?”
“If I hadn’t been knocked about until the strength was all beaten out
of me, I should have _done_ something before this time,” replied
Frank, boldly. “Give me my liberty, and fifteen minutes’ rest, and
I’ll make trouble for you.”
“H’m!” said Pierre. “I can’t see it. You have made trouble enough for
me already.”
“And you haven’t seen the last of me yet,” added Frank.
“I know it. I told you that I should come back to you, didn’t I?”
“I mean that you will meet me under very different circumstances. We
will change places in less than twenty-four hours.”
Frank said this with no other object in view, than to let Pierre know
that he still kept up a brave heart, if the future was dark before
him. There was nothing in his prospects, just then, to encourage the
hope that he and his enemy would “change places,” and he little
dreamed that such would be the case; but, after all, something very
like it did happen, and in less than half the time Frank had
mentioned. Pierre, however, happy in the belief that his dreams of
wealth were about to be realized, had no misgivings. He laughed at his
prisoner’s warning, and springing into his saddle, disappeared in the
darkness. Frank listened to the sound of his horse’s feet until it
died away in the distance, and then rested his aching head against the
tree, and thought over his situation. What an eventful day it had
been! What astonishing adventures had been crowded into the short
space of ten hours! Frank’s mind was in a perfect whirl; and, if he
could have freed his hands, he would have pinched himself to see if he
was really wide awake. But, after all, he knew that the events of the
day were no dream--his aching limbs and throbbing head assured him of
that. The fight with Old Davy, Archie’s mishap, and his mysterious
disappearance at Don Carlos’ rancho, the death of the trapper, and the
unexpected encounter with Pierre Costello--all were realities. It was
no dream, either, that he had been bound to a tree and left in those
dark woods; and it was equally certain that he was not the only living
thing there. He heard a stealthy step on the leaves, and a moment
afterward, saw a pair of eyes, which shone like two coals of fire,
glaring at him from a thicket not far distant.
“It’s a panther!” exclaimed Frank, trembling all over with terror, and
much more alarmed now than he had been when he found himself in the
power of his old enemy; “and here I am perfectly helpless. Hi! hi!”
Acting upon his first impulse, which was to frighten away his
disagreeable neighbor, he uttered a series of yells which awoke the
echoes far and near. The result greatly astonished him. An answering
shout came from the farther end of the ravine, and hasty footsteps
were heard approaching. Frank’s heart beat high with hope. Had friends
been following him? More likely they were some of the settlers, who
had been out hunting, and were returning to their homes. In either
case he would soon be free once more, and his first care would be to
show Pierre that, if he had come back to the settlement, expecting to
have things all his own way, he had reckoned without his host. He
shouted again, and the eyes in the bushes disappeared, and he heard
the panther bounding up the mountain.
“Hallo!” called a voice through the darkness.
“Hallo!” replied Frank. “This way. Here I am.”
The unknown persons were prompt to answer the call, and came through
the bushes with all possible speed. Presently, Frank saw two dark
forms approaching, and in a few seconds they were close at his side,
and peering into his face. Why was it that he did not speak to them
and tell them what had happened to him? Simply because there was no
need of it. The men knew quite as much about it as he did. He had seen
them before, and knew that they were members of Don Carlos’ band. The
first words they uttered explained their presence there, and told
Frank that they perfectly understood the matter.
“Pierre thinks he is smart,” said one, untying the lasso with which
Frank was bound to the tree; “but he will find that there are men in
the world as sharp as he is. We knew what was up when we saw him ride
into the woods, instead of going toward the rancho. He tried to
swindle us out of our share of the money, and now we will see how much
of it he’ll get.”
In less time than it takes to tell it, Frank had been tied upon a
horse behind one of the Mexicans, and was being carried back to the
rancho. He did not experience much inconvenience from the ride, for
the Mexicans traveled slowly, and avoided the woods altogether. At the
end of half an hour they stopped in front of the walls of the rancho;
and when the ponderous gate closed behind him, Frank shuddered and
thought of the prediction Pierre had made. He glanced around the
court, and saw that it was lighted up by numerous dark-lanterns, and
filled with men, who seemed to be highly excited and enraged about
something. They were all talking at the top of their voices, and the
babel of English and Spanish was almost deafening. Archie had been the
cause of this disturbance. Not more than half an hour before he had
been flying about that court with all the speed his horse could
command; and, having failed in his attempt at escape, he had taken
refuge in the house. The Mexicans had seen him run through the hall,
and into the Don’s reception-room, and had, of course, expected to
capture him there; but they found the room empty, and could not
imagine where Archie had gone. His disappearance astonished and
alarmed them. They did not know that he was acquainted with the secret
of that spring in the painting of the Indian warrior.
Conspicuous among a group of men who occupied the center of the court,
stood the Don, who was, if possible, more excited and noisy than any
of his band. He looked up when Frank’s captors stopped in front of
him, and rubbed his hands gleefully together.
“Ach! Here is von of dese leetle poys,” said he. “Now dis ish _all_
right!”
As soon as the lasso, with which Frank was confined to the horse, had
been untied, he was assisted rather roughly to the ground. He put on a
bold front, and unflinchingly met the angry glances that were directed
toward him from all sides; but his heart was sinking within him, and
he waited anxiously for the chief to speak.
“Vel,” said the latter, at length, “you peen trying to shpy out
somethings about mine house, aint it? You peen von grand, leetle
rascal. Vare ish dis other leetle poys?
“Who--Archie? I don’t know where he is; and, if I did, it is not
likely that I should tell you. I hope he is safe at home.”
“Oh no, he don’t peen at home,” said the Don, shaking his head
vehemently; “he ish somevares in dis house. Dake him down and lock him
up.”
The chief’s looks had prepared Frank for some terrible sentence. He
would not have been much surprised if he had heard that he was to be
hanged or shot immediately; but, when he found that he was to be
locked up, his courage rose again, and he began to indulge in the hope
that a chance for escape might yet be offered him. In obedience to the
Don’s order, the Rancheros conducted him to one of the rooms in the
underground portion of the rancho, and after tying him hand and foot,
left him to his meditations. But he was not destined to remain there
long, for Archie fortunately stumbled upon him and released him.
We left the boys struggling with the Ranchero who had come in to
satisfy himself that Frank had not yet found means to effect his
escape. Archie was holding fast to his legs, and Frank had grasped him
by the throat and stifled his cry for help.
“I can hold him now,” said the latter. “Shut that door, and get
something to tie him with.”
The ropes with which Frank had been bound were brought into
requisition, and in a few seconds, the Mexican, in spite of his
furious struggles, was helpless. Archie had shown considerable
generalship in the part he had played in this transaction. If the
Ranchero had been permitted to return to his friends, he would, of
course, have informed them that Frank had been liberated by somebody,
and that would have told the Don just where to search for Archie. He
knew that Archie was somewhere in the rancho, but thus far he had been
unable to get on the track of him. The building was large, the
underground rooms and passage-ways numerous, the doors all locked, and
as long as the boys could keep their enemies from learning their exact
whereabouts, there was little danger of capture.
“Now, then, what is to be done with this fellow?” asked Frank, when
his cousin had securely bound the prisoner.
“Let’s give him one for Dick Lewis,” said Archie, brandishing his
heavy pistol in the air. “A crack over the head with this would do him
a wonderful sight of good.”
“No! no!” exclaimed Frank. “He took no part in that affair.”
“No doubt he would if he had had the chance. Let’s lock him in here,
and leave him.”
“He’ll call for help, won’t he?”
“We don’t care if he does. Even if he succeeds in making himself heard
through these thick walls, his friends can’t release him until they
have cut down one of these doors; and by the time they get that done,
we may be out of this den of robbers, and half way home.”
Archie began trying his keys in the lock of of the door, and finally
found one that would fit it. Then, after the prisoner had been pulled
into one corner, the cousins passed out of the room, locking the door
after them.