THE BRIDGE OF CLOUDS.
There seemed to be no end to the stairway. It wound and twisted about
in a bewildering fashion, and, before they reached the top, Frank and
Archie came to the conclusion that they had either been a long way
under the ground, or else that the rancho was a much taller building
than they had imagined it to be. At last, however, their guide pushed
open a door, and the boys found themselves in the same room to which
he had conducted them when they first arrived at the rancho. Still
closely followed by his watchful companions, the Don went straight
across the room, and stopped in front of a wardrobe.
“Now, leetle poys,” said he, addressing himself to Archie, “you got
the keys. Make dis door open.”
Archie quickly found a key that would fit the lock, and when the boys
entered the wardrobe, they discovered that, although it was used as a
receptacle for clothing, it was intended to conceal a door that led
into some secret apartment. When this door had been opened--it was so
heavy that it taxed Archie’s strength to the utmost to move it--the
cousins found themselves in a room, about twenty feet square, which
had one peculiarity that they noticed as soon as they crossed the
threshold. There was not a single opening in it; and when Archie had
shut the door, they found themselves surrounded on all sides by rough
stone walls. Even the door itself, which closed behind them with the
sharp click of a spring lock, could not be seen.
“I say, Don,” exclaimed Frank, “what use do you make of this dungeon?
I don’t see any thing stowed away here.”
The chief’s answer was not given in words. He was standing close by
Frank’s side, and before the latter could move, he had suddenly jerked
the lantern from his hand, and dashed it upon the floor, smashing it
into a thousand pieces, and extinguishing the light. As quick as
thought Frank bounded forward, and made a blind clutch at the place
where he had last seen the Don, but with no other result than to come
in violent contact with the wall. A moment afterward, the astonished
and bewildered boys heard a grating sound at the other side of the
room, and the Don’s voice calling to them through the darkness.
“Dis ish all right,” said he. “Dere’s somethings shtowed away here
now, ain’t it? It’s petter you shtays here awhile.”
The truth flashed through the boys’ minds at once--they were prisoners
again. In spite of all their vigilance, the chief had succeeded in
carrying out the plan he had formed while he was watching the
operation of binding Pierre Costello. His movements had been so rapid,
that, even had his captives been aware of his intention, they could
not have prevented him from carrying it into execution. Before they
could tell what was the matter, the lantern had been smashed, their
treacherous enemy had made his exit from the room in some mysterious
manner, and they were alone in the darkness.
“We’re in for it now,” panted Archie, sinking down upon the floor all
in a heap. “We’ve got out of some tight places to-night, but there is
no escape from this predicament. The Don will soon be back with his
men.”
“And if they once get their hands upon us, we need never expect to see
home again,” said Frank. “Give me some of your matches, and we will
examine the walls of this dungeon. There’s a spring to that door, and
if we can find it, we can get out.”
After the matches had been lighted, the boys found that the first
difficulty to be overcome was the finding of the door. They did not
know where to look for it, for the walls appeared to be as solid as
the ground. They made the circuit of the room several times, lighting
new matches as fast as the old ones were consumed, and carefully
examining each separate stone in the wall, from the floor up to a
level with their heads; but nothing in the shape of a spring or lock
rewarded their search. Then they turned their attention to the floor;
but, if there was any opening in the solid oak planks, it could not be
found. Five minutes--it seemed much longer to the frightened and
excited boys--were passed in this way, and then, for the first time
that night, Frank’s courage and fortitude were utterly exhausted.
“It’s no use,” said he. “The Don got out somewhere, but it is very
evident that we can’t. We might as well sit down, and wait for him to
come in and dispose of us. Do you see any thing encouraging?” he
added, noticing that his cousin was holding a match above his head,
and closely examining the roof of the dungeon.
“I believe I do,” replied Archie. “Isn’t that a scuttle?”
“That’s just what it is,” exclaimed Frank, joyfully; “and it is
fastened with hooks.”
“Oh, if we could only get up there,” cried Archie. “But there isn’t a
thing here for a fellow to stand upon.”
“I’ve got a pair of shoulders. Come here, and I will hold you up.”
After burning another match to determine the exact position of the
scuttle, Frank took his stand directly beneath it, and in a moment
more, Archie was balanced on his shoulders, and panting loudly, as he
strove with nervous haste to unfasten the hooks. Every thing bothers
when one is in a hurry, and one’s fingers are all thumbs. It was
awkward working in that intense darkness, and, besides, the hooks had
been driven into the staples so tightly, that it required the outlay
of all Archie’s strength to start them. But patience and perseverance
conquered at last, and in an excited voice he informed his cousin that
he had unfastened the scuttle, and asked him if he should open it.
“Of course,” replied Frank.
“But how do we know what we shall find on the other side? Perhaps it
leads into a room full of Mexicans.”
“We must run that risk. Venture nothing, gain nothing, you know.”
Frank awaited the issue of events with a good deal of anxiety. He
heard the heavy scuttle lifted slowly and cautiously from its place,
then a smothered cry of exultation, and the weight was suddenly lifted
from his shoulders. Upon looking up, he saw the stars shining down
upon him through the scuttle-hole, and his cousin’s heels disappearing
over the combings.
“We are safe now,” whispered Archie, thrusting his head into the
opening, and extending his hand down into the darkness. “I am on the
roof of the rancho. Give us your fist.”
“I can’t reach you,” replied Frank.
Archie hesitated a moment, and then pulled off his jacket, and firmly
grasping one of the sleeves, threw the other down to his cousin. One
hundred and fifty pounds was no light weight for a boy of his size to
sustain, but he clung manfully to the jacket, while Frank went up,
hand-over-hand, as a sailor goes up a rope. He soon ascended high
enough to seize the combings of the scuttle, and in a moment more
stood safe upon the roof.
The cousins did not stop to congratulate themselves upon their good
fortune. Time was much too precious for that, and, besides, they did
not yet regard their escape as a settled thing. There was the creek to
be crossed; a belt of timber to be passed; and five miles of lonely
prairie to be traversed, before they reached their uncle’s rancho; and
there was no knowing what might happen to them while they were making
this journey. Their first care was to put the scuttle back in its
place, so that the Don, when he returned to the dungeon, should not
immediately discover the manner of their escape, and the next to
reconnoiter the ground before them. They found themselves on the roof
of a wing of the rancho--a space about twenty feet square. On three
sides was a stone parapet, two feet high, and on the fourth loomed up
the walls of the main building. In this wall was a door, which opened
upon the wing. The boys merely glanced at it, and scarcely thought of
it again; but they afterward had good cause to remember it. They
looked all around them, but there was no one in sight; they listened
intently, but could hear nothing.
“The coast seems to be clear,” said Archie, walking to the parapet and
looking cautiously over, “and we had better be off. It isn’t more than
fifteen or twenty feet to the ground, and we can hang by our hands and
drop without much danger of injuring ourselves.”
“Be careful,” said Frank. “A sprained ankle wouldn’t be a funny thing,
just now.”
The boys jumped upon the wall, and were on the point of swinging
themselves over, when an interruption they had not dreamed of arrested
their movements. Frank’s quick ear caught the faint tramping of
horses’ hoofs. He laid his hand upon his cousin’s arm, and they sprang
back to the roof, and concealed themselves behind the parapet.
“Something is always bothering us,” said Archie, straining his eyes
through the darkness in the direction from which the sound came.
“What’s up now, I wonder!”
If Frank had known just what was about to transpire, he could not have
described it in less time than the scene occupied in taking place.
While Archie was speaking, the sound of the horses’ hoofs ceased, and
a faint light, like that emitted by a match, blazed up in the bushes
on the opposite side of the creek. The signal (for the boys were sure
it was a signal) was repeated twice, and then arose a commotion in the
house, as if men were running hurriedly about. This continued for a
few seconds, and then a flatboat suddenly made its appearance in the
creek. Where it came from, the boys could not imagine; but there it
was, and there was a man in it, who was sculling it toward the
opposite bank.
“By--gracious!” whispered Archie, in great excitement. “We are going
to witness the very scene that frightened old Bob so badly.”
“But Bob must have been dreaming,” answered Frank. “He said the boat
was ferried across without hands, and that man is using an oar.”
Our heroes were too deeply interested in what was going on to continue
the conversation. Archie pulled off his sombrero, and pushed back his
sleeves, as if he were preparing for a trial of strength with
somebody, while Frank settled himself into a comfortable position
behind the parapet, after the manner of a boy who had selected his
favorite book from the library, and seated himself in an easy chair to
enjoy it. They kept a sharp lookout, for they were determined that not
even the smallest incident should escape their notice. They had an
opportunity now to learn the secret of these strange doings, and, when
they were over, they would know as much about them as Don Carlos
himself.
At the same moment that the flatboat appeared, the boys heard the
grating noise below them, and suddenly the banks of the creek and the
woods, for two hundred yards around, which had been shrouded in
darkness an instant before, were flooded with light.
“I know what Bob’s ‘streaks of fire’ are now,” said Frank.
“That light comes from a dark-lantern,” chimed in Archie. “There’s
only one thing, so far, that I can’t understand, and that is, where
that boat came from in such a hurry. What’s that?”
Just then a large white object, which appeared to unfold itself as it
moved along, came into view, and rolled down the bank toward the
creek. It stopped when it reached the water’s edge, thus forming a
walk, which extended from the creek to the walls of the rancho. This
was another thing that Archie could not understand, and neither could
Frank. They knew that it was what the trapper had called the “bridge
of clouds,”--and there it was, “rolling and tumbling, like the smoke
from the mouth of a cannon,” just as Dick had described it to
them--but what was it made of? that was the question. Of course it
couldn’t be a cloud, but it certainly looked like one. Archie sank
lower behind the parapet, and muttered his favorite expression a good
many times, and Frank puffed out his cheeks, and scratched his head to
stir up his ideas.
While the bridge of clouds (the boys did not know what else to call
it) was placing itself in position on that side of the creek, a
similar operation had been going on on the opposite bank. The boat had
by this time crossed the creek, and a white object, like the one just
described--another bridge of clouds--extended from it into the woods.
Presently, two horsemen appeared, riding down the bridge toward the
boat. One was mounted on Roderick, and the other on King James; and
each led a horse which had doubtless been stolen that night. They rode
upon the flatboat, the bridge along which they had just passed rolled
itself up after them, and the boat began to move across the creek. It
was plain, now, that the old trapper had not been dreaming. The
horsemen were still in their saddles; the Mexican, who had gone over
in the boat, was standing quietly in the stern; the oar lay upon the
bottom where he had thrown it; and yet the boat moved rapidly through
the water. There was no mistake about it, for the boys could see the
whole proceeding as plainly as though it had been broad daylight. The
boat was certainly coming across the creek, and it was equally certain
that not one of its three passengers was propelling it. A dozen
oarsmen could not have sent it through the water as rapidly as it was
moved by that invisible power. It was not more than half-a-minute in
crossing the creek, and as soon as it touched the bank, the horsemen
rode out on the bridge of clouds, and came toward the rancho. Frank
and Archie kept close watch of their movements, thrusting their heads
as far over the parapet as they dared, and it seemed to them that the
horsemen went into the wall. They suddenly disappeared somewhere very
suddenly; and no sooner were they out of sight, than the bridge of
clouds rolled itself up behind them, the light was extinguished, and
darkness once more settled down over the rancho.
These various incidents followed one another with a rapidity that was
utterly bewildering. The horsemen had crossed the creek, and were safe
in the rancho, almost before the boys knew it. They had moved as
swiftly and silently as spirits; and when they had passed out of
sight, Archie struck the parapet with his fist, to make sure that he
was awake. He felt the cold chills creeping along his back, and he did
not wonder now that old Bob had been frightened. He was willing to
confess that he was frightened himself.
“Well!” said Frank, after a moment’s pause.
“Don’t ask me any questions,” replied Archie. “I don’t know any more
about it now than I did before. Where did those fellows go?”
“What was that white thing the horses walked on, and what moved it? I
didn’t see any one near it!”
“Where did that flatboat come from, and where could it have gone so
suddenly? It disappeared the instant the horsemen left it.”
“No doubt we shall know all about it some day,” said Frank--“that is,
if we succeed in making our escape. I wonder if the coast is clear
now?”
“No, it isn’t,” answered Archie. “See there!”
Frank looked over the parapet, and saw a Mexican standing in the
shadow of the wall beneath them. He had doubtless been stationed there
to see if the horsemen were pursued. The boys wished him a thousand
miles away, for he was sadly interfering with their arrangements. They
waited impatiently for him to follow the robbers into the rancho, but
he seemed to have no such intention. He stood there as upright as a
post, and as silent and motionless.
“Are we not having miserable luck?” asked Archie, impatiently. “Let’s
jump down on him, before he knows it. We can both manage him.”
“But we would alarm the rest of the band,” replied Frank. “Let’s drop
down on the other side, and go around the rancho.”
The attention of the boys had been so fully occupied with what had
just transpired, that they had not thought of looking for enemies in
their rear. While they were watching the Mexican beneath them, the
door in the wall of the main building, of which we have before spoken,
was noiselessly opened, and several Rancheros, headed by Don Carlos,
came out and approached the boys on tip-toe. As the latter arose to
their feet to carry out the plan Frank had suggested, Archie’s collar
was seized in a strong grasp, and his cousin looked up just in time to
see a long, bony hand stretching out toward him. It was the robber
chief’s hand; but it was much too slow in its movements to make a
prisoner of Frank Nelson. The boy lingered just long enough to see
that the Don was backed up by a force too strong to be successfully
resisted, and then, striking up the threatening hand, he jumped to the
parapet and swung himself over. He did not immediately let go his
hold, but looked down to take a survey of the ground beneath him. He
wanted to strike squarely on his feet, in order to be on equal terms
with the sentinel who would doubtless pounce upon him at once. He hung
suspended in the air but a moment, but that was long enough for the
Don to reach the parapet, and bend over and seize him by the collar.
“Hold on, leetle poys,” exclaimed the chief. “It’s petter you comes
back here. Ach! Dis ish von grand shwindle,” he yelled, changing his
tone very suddenly. “Vat you making here, leetle poys?”
The Don was greatly alarmed now, for he was being dragged over the
parapet. When he seized Frank, he did not attempt to pull him back
upon the roof, but braced himself, intending to hold fast to his
prisoner until some of his men could come to his assistance. Frank
understood his plans; and knowing that the loss of a single instant
might be fatal to him, he quickly loosened his grasp upon the wall,
and seized the Don by the hair. He hoped by this move to compel his
enemy to let go his hold; but it had a very different result. The
chief, not being equal to the task of sustaining a dead weight of one
hundred and fifty pounds by the hair of his head, suddenly lost his
balance, and he and Frank fell whirling through the air.