Frank Merriwell's Backers Part 21

But Brazos Tom rose in a great rage, almost frothing at the mouth.

"Ten thousan' tarantulas!" he howled. "Let me git my paws on him!"

He made a rush for Frank, who seemed to stand still to meet him, but stepped aside just as the ruffian tried to fold him in his arms.

Then the big wretch was somehow caught about the body, lifted into the air, and sent crashing to the ground, striking on his head and shoulders. The young athlete from Yale handled Brazos Tom with such ease that every witness was astounded.

The big fellow lay where he fell, stunned and finished.

Gonchita looked at Frank with a light of the most intense admiration in her dark eyes.

"How you do eet so easee?" she asked.

"That's nothing, with a bungler like him to meet," said Merry quietly.

The ruffians said nothing, but exchanged meaning glances. They had been foiled for the time being by the girl and by the cleverness of their captive.

CHAPTER XII.

LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS.

Four persons were lost in the mountains. Three of them were young men who were scarcely more than youths. All were mounted on broncos.

One was a bright-eyed, apple-cheeked chap, who had an odd manner of talking, and who emphasized his words with little gestures and flirts of his hand that were very peculiar. Another was dark and silent, with a face that was decidedly handsome, although it denoted a person given more or less to brooding and morbid thoughts. The third youth was long and lank and talked with a nasal drawl and a manner of speech that proclaimed him a down-easter.

These three were respectively Jack Ready, Bart Hodge, and Ephraim Gallup, all friends and former companions of Frank Merriwell.

The fourth one of the party was a red-nosed b.u.mmer, known as Whisky Jim, whom they had picked up to guide them from the little railroad-town to Frank Merriwell's mine. Jim had averred that he knew "every squar' foot o' Arizony frum the Grand Canon to the Mexican line," and they had trusted in his promise to lead them, with the smallest possible delay, to the Queen Mystery Mine.

Jim would not acknowledge that he was lost. They had provided him with the bronco he bestrode and promised him good pay when they should come to the mine. He had collected enough in advance to "outfit" with a liberal supply of whisky, and had managed to keep beautifully loaded ever since they rode out to the Southwest.

Their horses were wearied and reluctant, while they were sun-scorched and covered with dust.

"By gum!" groaned Gallup. "I'm purty near pegged! This is too much fer me. I wish I was to hum on the farm!"

"Prithee say not so!" cried Ready. "You give unto me that feeling of sadness known to those who are homesick. Ah, me! to endure thus to have my beautiful complexion destroyed by this horrid sun! And behold my lily-white hands! Are they not spectacles to make the G.o.ds sigh with regret! Permit me to squeeze out a few salt teardrops."

Hodge was saying nothing.

"'Sall ri', boysh," a.s.sured the useless guide thickly. "Jesht you wait an' shee. Whazzer mazzer with you? I know m' bushiness. Who shays I dunno m' bushiness?"

He was able to sit perfectly straight in the saddle, although he was disgustingly intoxicated.

"I say you don't know your business, you old fool!" said Hodge, breaking out at last. "It would serve you right if we were to leave you here in the mountains. A great guide you are! You'd die if we left you! You'd never find your way out."

Jim looked astonished. This was the first time Bart had broken forth thus plainly.

"You don't mean it?" he gurgled.

"You bet your life I meant it! I'm in for leaving you to get back to town the best way you can."

"Oh, don't do that!" exclaimed Jim, sobered somewhat by his alarm.

"Someshin' might happen t' you, boysh."

"Let's leave him," nodded Jack Ready, amused by the consternation of the old fellow.

"Derned ef we don't!" cried Gallup.

Upon which the "guide" became greatly alarmed, begging them for the love of goodness not to leave him there in the mountains to die alone.

"But you're a guide," said Hodge. "You would be able to get out all right."

"Boysh," said the old toper, "I got a 'fession to make."

"What is it?"

"I ain't been in the guidin' bushiness for shome time. I'm a leetle rusty; jest a bit out o' practish. That's whazzer mazzer."

"Why didn't you say so in the first place? What made you lie to us?"

"Boysh, I needed the moneysh. Hones' Injun, I needed the moneysh bad.

Been a long time shince I've had all the whisky I could hold. Great treat f' me."

Bart was disgusted, but Jack Ready was inclined to look at the affair in a humorous light.

"I'd like to know the meaning of those smoke clouds we saw," said Hodge. "They looked mighty queer to me."

They consulted together, finally deciding to halt in a shadowy valley and wait for the declining of the sun, which would bring cooler air.

They confessed to one another that they were lost, and all felt that the situation was serious. It was not at all strange that Hodge was very angry with the worthless old toper who had led them into this predicament.

"We may never get out of these mountains," he said. "Or, if we do, we may perish in the desert. I tell you, fellows, we're in a bad sc.r.a.pe!"

"Dear me!" sighed Ready. "And I antic.i.p.ated great pleasure in surprising Merry to-day. Alas and alack! such is life. I know this dreadful sunshine will spoil my complexion!"

Gallup looked dolefully at the horses, which were feeding on the buffalo-gra.s.s of the valley.

"We're a pack of darn fools!" he observed. "We'd oughter sent word to Frankie that we was comin', an' then he'd bin on hand to meet us."

The "guide" had stretched himself in the shadow of some boulders and fallen fast asleep.

"I suppose I'm to blame for this thing, fellows," said Bart grimly. "It was my scheme to take Merry by surprise."

"Waal, I ruther guess all the rest of us was reddy enough ter agree to it," put in Gallup. "We're jest ez much to blame as you be."