Frank Among The Rancheros Part 5

Thus encouraged, Frank began and related his story, to which his auditors listened with breathless attention. He told what he had done with the twelve thousand dollars, where he had hidden the keys, how he had detected Pierre watching him through the window, and how the Ranchero had told him that Marmion was off hunting rabbits, when he was lying bound and muzzled in some out-of-the-way place. Then he explained how the robber had overpowered him while he was reading, how he had searched his pockets for the keys, and pulled him up by the neck because he refused to tell where he had hidden them, and how he was on the very point of hanging him in earnest when the arrival of Uncle James alarmed him. Mr. Winters was astonished, and so was the doctor, who patted Frank on the head, and said:

"You're a chip of the old block. And did you not tell him where you had put the key?"

"No, sir;" was the answer. "He choked me pretty hard, though, and my throat feels funny yet."

The boy having finished his story, Mr. Winters took it up where he left off, and told the doctor how Frank had rescued him from the robber, and how hard he had worked to effect his capture, and all who heard it declared that he was a hero.

CHAPTER VII.

FRANK MEETS A HIGHWAYMAN.

Frank pa.s.sed the next day in making up for the sleep he had lost the night before. About three o'clock in the afternoon he arose refreshed, and visited his uncle, whom he found fast asleep. Now that Archie was gone, the old house was quiet and lonesome--too much so, indeed, to suit Frank, who, after trying in vain to find some way to amuse himself until supper time, saddled Roderick, and set out for a short gallop over the prairie. As he was about to mount his horse, Marmion came out of the court, and frisked about his master as lively as ever, apparently none the worse for the ugly-looking wounds he had received during his encounter with the robber.

"Go home, sir," said Frank. "Don't you know that you are under the doctor's care?"

If Marmion did know it, he didn't bother his head about it. He had a will of his own; and having always been permitted to accompany his master wherever he went, he did not feel disposed to remain behind.

Instead of obeying the command to go home, he ran on before, and Frank made no further attempts to drive him back.

Frank, having by this time become well acquainted with the country for twenty miles around his uncle's rancho, knew where he wanted to go, and about an hour after he left home, he was stretched at full length beside a spring among the mountains, where he and his friends often camped to eat their dinner during their hunting expeditions. Roderick stood close by, lazily cropping the gra.s.s, but Marmion was not in sight. The last time his master saw him, he was trying to gnaw his way into a hollow log where a rabbit had taken refuge.

Frank lay beside the spring until his increasing hunger reminded him that it was nearly supper time, and then he mounted his horse, and started for home. Roderick being permitted to choose his own gait, walked slowly along a narrow bridle-path that led out of the mountains, and Frank sat in his saddle with both hands in his pockets, his sombrero pulled down over his eyes, and his thoughts wandering away to the ends of the earth. He had ridden in this way about half a mile, when he was suddenly aroused from his meditations by a commotion in the bushes at his side, and the next moment a man sprang in front of the horse, and seized him by the bridle.

"Pierre Costello!" exclaimed Frank, as soon as he had somewhat recovered from his astonishment.

"Ay, it's Pierre, and no mistake," returned the Ranchero, with a triumphant smile. "You thought I had left the country, didn't you?"

"I was in hopes you had; but I see you are still on hand, like a bad dollar-bill."

"We are well met," continued Pierre. "I have been waiting for an opportunity to thank you for the very friendly manner in which you treated me last night."

"You need not have put yourself to any trouble about it. You are under no obligations to me. As I am in something of a hurry, I will now bid you good-by."

"Not if I know myself, and I think I do," said Pierre, with a laugh.

"You are just as impudent as ever. Climb down off that horse."

Frank's actions indicated that he did not think it best to obey this order. He sat perfectly still in his saddle, looking at Pierre, and wondering what he should do. He could show no weapon to intimidate the robber, for he was entirely unarmed, not having brought even his la.s.so or clasp-knife with him; while Pierre held in his hand, ready for instant use, the bowie that had rendered him such good service during the fight in the court. At first Frank entertained the bold idea of riding over the Ranchero. Roderick was as quick as a flash in his movements, and one touch of the spurs, if his rider could take Pierre off his guard, would cause the horse to jerk the bridle from his grasp, and before the robber could recover himself, Frank would be out of danger. But Pierre had antic.i.p.ated this movement, and he was too well acquainted with his prisoner to relax his vigilance for an instant. More than that, he held both the reins under Roderick's jaw with a firm grasp, and stood in such a position that he could control the movements of both the horse and his rider.

A moment's reflection having satisfied Frank that his idea of running over Pierre could not be carried out, he began to look around for his dog. But Marmion had not yet come up, and Frank was compelled to acknowledge to himself that he was as completely in the villain's power as he had been when Pierre had the la.s.so around his neck.

"Get down off that horse, I say," commanded the Ranchero.

"So you have turned highwayman, have you?" said Frank, without moving.

"Do you find it a more pleasant and profitable business than herding cattle?"

"Are you going to get off that horse?" asked the robber, impatiently.

"What's the use? You will not find a red cent in my pockets."

"I suppose not; but if I take you with me, I'll soon find out how many yellow boys your uncle carries in his pockets."

"If you take me with you!" repeated Frank. "What do you mean?"

"I mean just this: I shall find it exceedingly lonesome living here in the mountains by myself, and I don't know of any one in the world I had rather have for a companion than yourself."

"Humph!" exclaimed Frank; "that's a nice idea. I won't go."

"Of course," continued the Ranchero, not heeding the interruption, "when you fail to make your appearance at home for three or four days, your uncle will think he has seen the last of you. He will believe that you have been clawed up by grizzlies, or that you have tumbled into some of these gullies. He will raise a hue and cry, search high and low for you, offer rewards, and all that; and, while the fuss is going on, and people are wondering what in the world could have become of you, you will be safe and sound, and living like a gentleman, with me, on the fat of the land."

"But, Pierre," said Frank, now beginning to be really frightened, "I don't want to live with you on the fat of the land, and I won't do it.

Let go that bridle."

The Ranchero, as before, paid no attention to the interruption. He seemed to delight in tormenting his prisoner.

"After you have been with me about six months," he went on, "and your friends have given up all hope of ever seeing you again, I'll send a note to Mr. Winters, stating that you are alive and well, and that, if he will give me twenty thousand dollars in gold, I will return you to him in good order, right side up with care. If I find that we can get along pretty well together, I may conclude to keep you a year; for the longer you remain away from your uncle, the more he will want to see you, and the bigger will be the pile he will give to have you brought back. What is your opinion of that plan? Don't you think it a capital way to raise the wind?"

Frank listened to this speech in utter bewilderment. Cruel and reckless as he knew Pierre to be, he had never for a moment imagined that he could be guilty of such an enormous crime as this. He did not know what reply to make--there was nothing he could say or do. Entreaties and resistance were alike useless.

"Well, what are you thinking about?" inquired the Ranchero.

"I was wondering if a greater villain than yourself ever lived," replied Frank.

"We will talk about that as we go along," said Pierre. "Get off that horse, now; I am going to send him home."

Frank, seeing no way of escape, was about to obey this order, when the truant, Marmion, came in sight, trotting leisurely up the path, carrying in his mouth the rabbit, which he had succeeded in gnawing out of the log. He stopped short on discovering Pierre, dropped his game, and gathered himself for a spring.

"Take him, Marmion!" yelled Frank, as he straightened himself up in his saddle. "If it is all the same to you, Mr. Pierre, I'll not go to the mountains this evening."

The Ranchero did not wait to receive the dog. He was an arrant coward, and, more than that, he stood as much in fear of Marmion as if he had been a bear or panther. Uttering a cry of terror, he dropped the bridle, and, with one bound, disappeared in the bushes. Marmion followed close at his heels, encouraged by terrific yells from his master, who, now that his dog was neither bound nor muzzled, looked upon the capture of the robber as a thing beyond a doubt. There was a loud crashing and snapping in the bushes, as the pursuer and pursued sped on their way, and presently another loud yell of terror, mingled with an angry growl, told Frank that the dog had come up with Pierre.

"He is caught at last," thought our hero; "how shall I get him home?

that's the question. How desperately he fights," he added, as the commotion in the bushes increased, and the yells and growls grew louder.

"But he'll find it's no use, for he can't whip that dog, if he has got a knife. Now, I ought to have a rope. I'll ride up the path, and see if I can find Pierre's horse; and, if I can, I'll take his la.s.so and tie the rascal hand and foot."

Frank galloped up the path a short distance, but could see nothing of the horse. The Ranchero had, doubtless, left him in the bushes, and Frank was about to dismount and go in search of him, when, to his utter astonishment, he saw Pierre coming toward him. His face was badly scratched; his jacket and shirt had disappeared altogether; his breast and arms were covered with blood, and so was his knife, which he still held in his hand. But, where was Marmion, that he was not following up his enemy? The answer was plain. The dog had been worsted in his encounter with the robber, and Frank was left to fight his battles alone. He thought no more of taking Pierre a prisoner to the rancho. All he cared for now was to escape.

"Well, now, it was good of you not to run away when you had the chance,"

said the Ranchero, who appeared to be quite as much surprised at seeing Frank as the latter had been at seeing him.

"If I had thought that you could get away from that dog, I should have been a mile from here by this time," replied Frank. "I was looking for your horse, and, if I had found him, I should have gone to Marmion's a.s.sistance."

"Well, he needed you bad enough," said Pierre, with a laugh. "I have fixed him this time."

"You have!" cried Frank, his worst suspicions confirmed. "Is Marmion dead?"

"Dead as a door-nail. Now we must be off; we have wasted too much time already."