Frank Merriwell's Athletes Part 35

Hans got up with an effort and started to return to his seat; but he stopped, regarding the spinster doubtingly. She gave him a look, and he dodged, as if she had thrown something at him.

"Oxcuse me!" he exclaimed. "Uf id don't make some difference to n.o.body, I vill valk der rest uf der vays."

This was said in such a doleful manner that every one of the boys laughed.

"Here," said Frank, "I think there is more room on this seat, and I will take your seat. Hurry up, now."

Frank took the seat beside Miss Abigail, while, with a sigh of relief, the Dutch boy climbed up beside Inza. He looked very doleful and crestfallen during the rest of the journey to the Pueblo, where they arrived at nine o'clock that evening.

CHAPTER XVIII-CARVER'S OPINION

Pom! pom! pom!

"Pwhat's that?" grunted Barney Mulloy, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

Pom! pom! pom!

"Come in, und stop dot knockin' der door on!" gurgled Hans Dunnerwust from beneath an Indian blanket.

"That ain't n.o.body knockin'," declared Ephraim Gallup, with a yawn. "It saounds like--"

Pom-per-pom! pom-per-pom! pom-per-pom!

"Thunder!" snorted the Vermonter, sitting up and giving his blanket a fling. "Where be we, anyhaow?"

"I don'd told you!" exclaimed Hans, in sudden alarm. "You explain dot to mineself!"

"Here!" came from beneath another blanket that was spread on the floor; "what are you chaps raking such a mow about-I mean making such a row about?"

Then Harry lifted his head and peered around in the semi-darkness.

In all directions heads were lifted, and the voice of Bruce Browning growled:

"Talk about your hard beds! I have stopped in all sorts of hotels, but I never struck a bed like this before! What sort of a ranch is this, anyhow?"

Pom-pom! pom-pom! pom-pom!

"Heavens!" gurgled Diamond, popping bolt upright and holding his hands over his ears. "What infernal noise is that?"

Then all the boys sat up, staring at each other questioningly.

"Where is Frank?"

"He's not here!"

Merriwell was gone, but his blanket was rolled in the corner where he had been sleeping.

By this time the boys began to realize where they were.

"We are at the Pueblo," said Hodge. "We arrived here last night, and it must be morning. That sound is the beating of a drum, which means the exercises of the day have begun."

Then there was a hustling, and every one, with the exception of Browning, moved in a hurry. Browning would not have hurried if the adobe hut had been falling down about his ears.

The blanket which served as a door was flung back, and it was seen that the sun was just peeping over the eastern mountains, shooting lances of golden light toward the zenith.

Already the world at the Pueblo of Taos was astir and ma.s.s was being said in the little whitewashed chapel, at the door of which stood an idiot boy, who, now and then, pounded spasmodically on a drum. This drumming was answered in a similar manner by another drummer, who stood on the highest terrace of the higher of the two community buildings.

These buildings were made of sundried mud, from a distance looking like two great pyramids. On a nearer approach, it could be seen they were built in terraces, like steps for a mountain-tall giant, each terrace being a story. One was six stories in height, and the other was four.

There were no doors, and the entrances were through the tops of the terraces, which were reached by ladders.

In those two buildings three hundred Pueblo Indians lived.

On the plain near the buildings spectators were already gathering, and the boys were surprised to see they were nearly all white men.

"Merry has stolen a march on us!" cried Hodge. "There he is with Inza now! He got up without awakening us, the rascal!"

"I'm glad he did," yawned Browning. "I could sleep ten hours longer."

"Well, you'd better do it!" came from Diamond. "Pretty soon you'll want to sleep all the time."

Indeed, Frank had arisen at the first hint of coming day and gone forth from the hut.

A little later, as day was breaking, Inza arose and saw him, whereupon she lost little time in preparing to come out and join him.

Frank and Inza had walked out toward a distant encampment, the picturesque tepees being of great interest to them. On their way they met a man who was strolling about with his hands in his pockets, seemingly enjoying the morning air. A silk hat was set upon the back of his head.

It was Dan Carver.

"Good-morning," said Carver, lifting his hat. "We meet again."

Inza was impulsive.

"Oh, Mr. Carver!" she exclaimed; "I want to thank you."

The man looked surprised.

"What for?" he asked.

"Frank-er-Mr. Merriwell says you would have protected me from that horrid Indian at the station yesterday, and he says you were determined to shoot the Indian afterward, but refrained because you did not care to shock ladies."

"Mr. Merriwell is very kind to put it that way," said Dan Carver.

"I was so agitated that I could not tell what was taking place. I am sure you were very kind."