THE DARK FACE OF DANGER.
"Are we in actual danger?"
It was Ralph who put the question. The Eastern lad looked rather white
under his tan. Walt, however, seemed as imperturbable as ever, and
gazed out at the approaching horsemen with no more sign of emotion than
a tightening of the lips.
Coyote Pete's reply was a curious one. He handed the boy the glasses,
and said curtly:
"Take a squint fer yourself."
Ralph gazed long and earnestly. Pete talked the while in low undertone.
"Do you recognize him--that fellow on the big black horse? I'd know
that horse ten miles away, even if I didn't know the man. He's----"
"Black Ramon de Barros!" burst from the Eastern lad's astounded lips,
while the others gave a sharp gasp of surprise.
"That's the rooster. Here, Jack; take a look."
The boy, as you may suppose, lost no time in applying the glasses to
his own eyes. Viewed through the magnifying medium, a startling
moving-picture swung into focus.
Surrounding a big, covered wagon, of the prairie-schooner type, were
from ten to a dozen wild-looking Mexicans, their straggling elf-locks
crowned by high-peaked sombreros, and their serapes streaming out
wildly about them, whipped into loose folds by the pace at which they
rode. As Coyote Pete had said, there was little difficulty for any one
who had seen him once, in recognizing Black Ramon de Barros. His
magnificent black horse--the same on which he had escaped from the old
mission--made him a marked man among a thousand. The wagon was drawn
by six mules, and driven by a short, stocky, little Mexican. The
horsemen seemed to act as escort for it. Evidently they had no fear of
being observed by hostile eyes, for, as they advanced, they waved their
rifles about their heads and yelled exultingly.
Fortunately for the party on the summit of the mesa, their stock was
tethered on the opposite side of the formation to that on which the
cavalcade was approaching. Thus, Black Ramon and his men could not see
that the mesa was occupied. Jack caught himself wondering, though, how
long it would be before, and what would happen when, they did.
"Have you got any plan in your head?" he asked, turning to Pete, as he
laid the glasses down. But for once, to his dismay, the old plainsman
seemed fairly stumped. The danger had come upon them so suddenly, so
utterly unexpectedly, that it had caught them absolutely unprepared.
They had not even a rifle with them on the mesa summit, and it was now
too late to risk exposing themselves by descending for weapons. There
was nothing to do, it seemed, but powerlessly to await what destiny
would bring forth.
"You boys get back to the altar. You can act as company fer the
profusser, and it will be a snug hiding-place in case of trouble,"
whispered Pete. "I wish to goodness we'd brought the stock up inside
the mesa, and then those fellows might never have discovered we were
here. I don't see how they can help it, as things are, though."
"They'll be bound to see our footmarks in the assembly hall," said Jack.
"Not bound to, lad," rejoined Pete. "You see, they may be only going
to make this a watering-place fer their stock, and then press right on."
"Press right on across that rocky range yonder?"
"Hum," resumed Pete, "that's so. They couldn't very well get that
wagin across that, could they?"
"Whatever do you suppose they've got a wagon for, at all?" asked Jack.
"I've got my own ideas, lad, and I'll find out afore long if I'm right.
Now, you and the other boys get back in that altar. If it gets too hot
here, I'll jump in and join you. If the worst comes to the worst, we
ought to be able to lay hid in there fer a while."
"In the meantime what are you going to do?"
"Keep my eyes and ears open. There's something mighty strange about
this whole thing."
The boys knew that obedience to Pete's commands was about the best
thing they could do at the moment, so they hastened to conceal
themselves within the altar, which afforded a comfortable hiding-place,
even if it was a trifle hot. The poor professor was in great pain from
his ankle, but Jack, after as able an examination as he could give the
injured member, was unable to find that it was anything more than a
severe sprain.
It did not take the professor long to become acquainted with what had
happened within the last fifteen minutes, and, in his anxiety over the
outcome of their situation, his pain was almost forgotten.
"If we only had the rifles," he breathed in such a savage voice that
had the circumstances been different the boys could have smiled at the
odd contrast between his mild, spectacled countenance and his
bloodthirsty words.
It seemed hours, although in reality not more than half an hour
elapsed, before Coyote Pete returned. His reappearance was not an
orderly one. Instead, he landed in the interior of the altar in one
bound. His face was streaming with sweat, and he looked anxious and
worried.
"What news?" asked Jack.
"The worst," was the rejoinder.
"Have they found our camp?"
"Not yet, but that's only a question of a few minutes now. At present
they are unhitching and cooking a meal. Luckily the shade at this time
of day lies to the north-west of the mesa, so that they may not explore
the other side for some time."
"Let us hope not. But what have you found out about them? What are
they doing here?"
"Just what I suspicioned. They are a part of a gang of gun-runners."
"Gun-runners?"
"Yes. From listening to their conversation, I have found out that this
insurrection's a heap worse than we ever supposed. Half of Chihuahua
is up in arms ag'in the government, and they are plotting to blow up
railroad bridges, cut wires, and paralyze the country generally. Then
they are goin' ter raid all the American mines and get the gold."
"Why, dad's mine's in Chihuahua, close to the border," gasped Jack.
"I know it. I heard that greaser ragamuffin, Black Ramon, mention his
name. Your dad's the first one they're goin' after----"
"The scoundrels."
"They owe him a grudge, you know, and now's their chance to get even."
"Do they know that dad is in Mexico now?"
"I didn't hear that. All I found out was what I told you, and that, as
I said, they are running guns across the border. That wagon's loaded
up with machine-guns in heavy cases. They are labeled as agricultural
machinery, and were taken off the train by white accomplices seventy
miles or more from here. They chose this part of the border, I guess,
as even Uncle Sam would never suspect any one of trying ter get guns
over them hills yonder."
"Well, they can't take a wagon over those rocky, desolate places. How
are they going to get them across, do you suppose?" asked the
professor, his pain almost forgotten in the tense interest of the
moment.
"That's just the funny part uv it," said Pete; "they never mentioned
the mountains. You don't suppose there's any other way they could get
'em over the border, do you?"
"Maybe they have an airship," suggested Walt Phelps.
"Maybe," said Pete quite gravely, "I wouldn't put nothin' past a
greaser."
"Hush!" exclaimed Ralph suddenly, "somebody's coming."
With beating hearts they sank into absolute silence. The three boys
crouched at one end of the hollow altar, the professor and Coyote Pete
bundled together into as small a space as possible at the other.
Voices, conversing in Spanish, could now be heard, and, from the
inflection, the boys judged that whoever was talking was very much
astonished over something.
"I recognize that voice," said Jack suddenly, in a low whisper, "it's
Ramon de Barros."
The other two boys nodded. Ralph Stetson's heart beat so hard and fast
that it fairly shook his frame. Truly the predicament of the party was
a terrible one. Discovery by as wolf-hearted a band of ruffians--if
they were all like their leader--as ever infested the border, was
inevitable within the next few minutes. Taking into consideration
their connection with Black Ramon in the past, it was unlikely in the
extreme that any mercy would be shown them. Never had any of them
looked so closely into the dark face of danger.
Suddenly the listeners, crouching in their hiding-place, heard a shout
of astonishment from the Mexicans.
"They've seen our camp over the edge of the mesa!" exclaimed Pete in a
low, tense voice; "in another minute they'll start looking for us."
As he spoke, the voice which Jack had recognized as Black Ramon's,
uttered a crisp, curt command of some sort. The lads could hear
footsteps hurrying hither and thither. Without doubt, the order that
meant their probable doom had just been given.
"I can't stand this a minute longer," cried Ralph suddenly. The boy's
eyes were blazing wildly. Clenching his fist, he sprang to his feet.
"Come back here, you blockhead," snapped Jack, tugging his friend down.
Ralph came backward sprawling, and landed in a heap in Jack's lap,
knocking Walt Phelps with him. Together the three boys were tangled in
a struggling heap.
"Get up," whispered Jack. "They'll hear us. You----"
He stopped short. All at once an astonishing--an incredible thing--had
happened. The floor beneath them,--the solid floor, as it had
seemed,--began to tremble.
Before any of the amazed lads could utter a word, the foundation upon
which they rested tipped, and, with a loud, ringing cry of terror from
Ralph, they were plunged out of the sunlight into blackness as
impenetrable as the pocket of Erebus.