Frank at Don Carlos' Rancho Part 10

replied Frank. "He was pulled down by a la.s.so; and the Mexican who caught him wheeled his horse and galloped off, dragging d.i.c.k after him. If his neck had been made of iron, it must have been broken."

"But how did he happen to be around where the Mexicans were?" asked Archie, who could not bring himself to believe his cousin's story.

"Why didn't he stay at home, where he belonged?"

"Why didn't we stay at home where we belonged?" retorted Frank. "If we had done that, d.i.c.k would have been alive and hearty, now. He lost his life in trying to save me. But we have wasted time enough in talking.

How did you get in here?"

"I don't understand it at all," said Archie, who could not have been more astounded and terrified if he had suddenly been knocked over by some invisible hand. "I shan't go on that hunting expedition with Captain Porter, even if I do recover my horse."

"If we don't find some way to get out of this den of robbers, we'll never have a chance to go with him," replied Frank. "How did you get in here?"

"Didn't you hear me unlock the door? I've got a key to every room in the rancho. Well! _Well!_ I can't get over that piece of news. I wish we had a light."

"The men who brought me in here left their lantern," said Frank. "We might look around and find it, but don't you think it would be dangerous to light it?"

"We couldn't be in a worse fix than we are in now. We don't know how many miles of rooms and pa.s.sage-ways we must travel through before we can get out of here; and I'd rather be discovered, and take my chances for escape, than to run the risk of breaking my neck before I know it."

The boys threw themselves on their hands and knees, and began creeping about the floor, searching for the lantern. Frank found it at last, and when it had been lighted, Archie held it up, and took a good look at his cousin.

"I am sorry to see you here," said he; "but since you are here, I am glad I have found you. What's the first thing to be done?"

"Have you any weapons?" asked Frank. "These people don't seem to think much of me, and if I am doomed to fall into their hands again, I want something with which to defend myself."

"You must have had a terrible fight," said Archie, again glancing at his cousin's face; "and I should judge that you had come out second best."

Frank shrugged his shoulders and felt of his head, but had nothing to say. Archie hesitated a moment before he spoke again. He was wondering who had got the worst of the encounter--he or the Ranchero. He had not quite made up his mind which was the most severe punishment--twenty-five or thirty cuts over the head and shoulders with a rawhide, or a single well-directed blow from the b.u.t.t of a heavy pistol, delivered with the full power of an arm that was all muscle. After a a few seconds' reflection, he decided that he would rather be in his own boots, than in those of the man he had knocked down; and that, taking all things into consideration, he could truthfully say that he had given the mutineer a good drubbing.

"I've just had a terrible whipping," said Archie, "but I didn't get the worst of the fight. I hit somebody a crack that he will remember for a day or two, I guess. I've got plenty of weapons--three pistols and a bowie-knife. Put this revolver in your pocket."

At this moment the cousins were startled by a noise at the door--not the one by which Archie had entered, but another on the opposite side of the room. Somebody was trying to open it. The door was not locked, but it held at the bottom.

"We must run for it now," whispered Archie. "We'll go out at this other door; and by the time he gets in here, we'll be safe in another hiding-place."

Handing his lantern to his cousin, Archie pulled out his keys and began fitting one to the lock; but his operations were suddenly interrupted by the sound of voices and footsteps in the pa.s.sage, telling him that the Rancheros, from whom he had escaped a few minutes before, were returning. Their retreat in that direction was cut off.

The boys looked at each other in dismay. There were but two doors in the room, and while their enemies were at each one, which way should they go? The noise at the door grew louder. Some one was certainly trying to get in, and, what was more, he seemed determined to accomplish his object; for his pulls at the door grew stronger, and the boys could hear him grumbling to himself in Spanish because it would not open. It yielded a little with every pull, however, and it was evident that he would soon succeed in effecting an entrance.

Archie drew his pistols, and looked to his cousin for advice.

"Put away those weapons," said Frank, earnestly. "If you should fire one of them here, it would show our enemies where we are, and destroy our last chance for escape. Hide yourself, and blow out that lantern."

Archie had barely time to act upon this suggestion, when the door flew open with a jerk, and looking over the top of a box, behind which he had crept for concealment, he saw a Mexican enter the room. By the light of the lantern he carried in his hand, Archie also discovered his cousin stretched upon the floor, his feet crossed, and his hands placed behind his back. The latter knew why the Ranchero had come in there.

"You're safe yet, are you?" said the Mexican. "That's all right. So many strange things have happened here to-night, that I should not have been surprised if I had not found you. Santa Maria! How's this?"

The man had bent over to examine his prisoners bonds, and for the first time discovered that he had been liberated. Astonished and alarmed, he acted upon his first impulse, and started for the door; but Archie was there before him. The Ranchero, who was wholly intent of making good his retreat, did not see him, however; and the first intimation he had of Archie's presence, was a pair of strong arms thrown around his legs, which were pulled from under him, causing him to fall backward upon the floor. He struggled furiously, and opened his lips to shout for help; but, before any sound came forth, a hand grasped his throat, and the cry was effectually stifled.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ARCHIE AND FRANK'S FIGHT WITH THE ROBBER.

CHAP. XI: PAGE 177]

CHAPTER XII.

FRANK'S ADVENTURES.

Frank had had some exciting adventures since we last saw him, and had witnessed scenes that it was not probable he would soon forget. We left him standing face to face with one of his pursuers, whose gun was at his shoulder, his finger on the trigger, and the muzzle of the weapon pointing straight at Frank's breast. The chances of escape from such a situation were small indeed. True, Frank's revolver was safe in his pocket, and he was too sure a shot to miss so large a mark as the Mexican at that distance; but he knew, from the next words his enemy spoke, that any attempt on his part to draw the weapon, would be the signal for his death.

"Put your hands above your head," commanded the Ranchero, sternly.

"Now, if you move an eyelid, I will send a ball through you."

The very appearance of the man was enough to convince Frank that he would not hesitate to carry his threat into execution, should occasion require it; but, large and strong as he was, and savage as he looked, he was afraid of his captive, and had no intention of approaching nearer to him until he had put it out of his power to do any mischief.

Keeping his eyes fastened upon Frank, and holding his gun in position with one hand, he uncoiled with the other a la.s.so which hung over his shoulder. The prisoner began to tremble in every limb. He understood the meaning of this movement, and told himself that there would be a desperate fight in those bushes before the Mexican should use that lariat on him. He did not intend to allow himself to be strangled half to death if he could prevent it. Having already had some experience in that line, he did not care to have it repeated.

"Look here!" said he, when the Ranchero, after coiling a portion of the la.s.so in his hand, began swinging it around his head; "don't attempt that."

"Stand where you are!" exclaimed the Mexican.

"I haven't moved an inch, and I have no desire to do so, as long as you keep that gun pointed at me. But you sha'n't put that la.s.so around my neck; you may depend upon that."

The Ranchero was evidently astonished. Here was a fellow, who acknowledged himself a prisoner, and yet had the audacity to tell his captor what he should do, and what he should not do. The tones of Frank's voice, his att.i.tude, and the expression of his countenance, all bore evidence to the fact that he was quite in earnest; and the Mexican seemed to be in no hurry to come to close quarters with him.

The hand in which he held the la.s.so fell to his side, and he stood looking at his captive, measuring him with his eye, and trying to decide upon some course of action.

Frank was no stranger to the Ranchero. The latter had often seen him, and he had heard of him, too. He knew the particulars of some of his exploits, and he had a wholesome respect for him. A boy who had courage enough to keep a secret with death staring him in the face, and who, after being nearly strangled, could fight with the desperation which Frank had exhibited in his encounter with Pierre Costello, was not one to be approached with impunity. The Mexican had never taken the trouble to look closely at him before, and now he was astonished to discover what a powerful young fellow he was. Although he was not quite seventeen years old, he stood five feet nine inches in his stockings; and the violent sports and exercises to which he had been accustomed from his earliest boyhood, had developed his muscles until they were as large as those of a blacksmith. He looked like a young Hercules as he stood there, drawn up to his full height, his arms extended above his head, his hands clenched, and his fingers moving nervously, as though they were aching to take the Ranchero by the throat.

"Hadn't you better make up your mind what you are going to do about it?" asked Frank, who was beginning to get impatient. "You might as well put up that la.s.so, for you shall never catch me with it."

"Stand where you are!" repeated the Mexican.

These words were addressed, not to the prisoner, but to the empty air.

The spot on which Frank had been standing was vacant, and he had disappeared from the view of his captor as completely as though he had never been in the woods at all. While the Ranchero was looking at Frank, the latter was narrowly watching the Ranchero. He kept his eyes fastened upon the gun, and finally he saw the muzzle turned a little aside, so that it no longer pointed at his breast. That was enough for Frank, who now repeated the trick he had tried with so much success upon Don Carlos. Gathering all his strength for the effort, he made two or three tremendous bounds, and vanished.

Like an inexperienced young sportsman, who, seeing a flock of quails suddenly arise from the bushes at his very feet, stands gazing after them with open mouth, too astonished to think of the gun he holds in his hand, so stood the Ranchero. There was something almost magical in the escape of his prisoner. It was so sudden and unexpected! There he was, holding a loaded gun in one hand, a la.s.so in the other, and standing almost within reach of his prize; and yet he had effectually eluded him.

"Santa Maria!" yelled the Ranchero, arousing himself as if from a sound sleep. "Stop, or I fire!"

"Whoop!" yelled another voice. "Hooray fur the boy that fit that ar'

robber! Put in your best licks, youngster, fur the timber's full of the varlets."

How Frank's heart bounded at the tones of that familiar voice! Friends had been near him all the while, and he had not been aware of it. He could not, however, waste much time in thinking about the trapper. He had imagined that his escape from the Ranchero had placed him beyond the reach of danger for the present, but now he found that he was running straight into it. There were other persons in the woods, of whose presence he had been ignorant, and now they began to show themselves. The trapper's wild Indian yell was answered by an order shouted in Spanish; and then was presented a scene that reminded Frank of some pa.s.sages in one of his favorite books--Sir Walter Scott's "Lady of the Lake." When the outlaw and King James were conversing, and the latter expressed a desire to see the rebel chieftain and his band, Roderick gave one shrill whistle, and--

"Instant, through heath and copse, arose Bonnets and spears and bended bows.

On right, on left, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe.

From shingles gray their lances start; The bracken bush sends forth the dart; The rushes and the willow wand Are bristling into ax and brand; And every tuft of broom gives life To plaided warrior, armed for strife."

In short, the Scottish braves sprung into view in a way that was utterly bewildering, and so did the men who had been creeping up through the bushes while Frank was parleying with his captor. The fugitive had never seen so many Mexicans together before, and it was a mystery where they all came from. It seemed to him that every bush and tree within the range of his vision, was turning into a villainous looking Ranchero. They arose on all sides, and with loud yells rushed forward intent upon capturing Frank alive and unharmed. Not a shot was fired at him, but the trapper was a target for a dozen rifles and pistols; and some of the bullets, that were intended for him, whistled through the bushes uncomfortably near to Frank's head. If Archie had been in his cousin's place just then, he would have smelt powder to his heart's content.

Frank's first impulse was to stop and surrender himself a prisoner; but a rapid glance around showed him that one portion of the woods was still left open to him. Toward this he dashed with the speed of a frightened deer--paying no heed to the loud commands to halt that were shouted after him, but trembling in every limb when he heard the la.s.sos of his pursuers whistling through the air--and in less time than it takes to tell it, he had once more distanced the fleetest of the herdsmen. In ten minutes not one of them was to be seen or heard.

The reports of the firearms had ceased, the shouts had died away in the distance, and the woods were as silent as midnight.