The Broncho Rider Boys with the Texas Rangers Part 33

"What can be done to save my friends?" he asked.

Gen. Sanchez looked grave.

"It is a hard problem," he replied. "We have been trying all day to force our way into the city, but have not yet succeeded, as you know. It seems hardly possible that we should be able to carry the lines between now and dawn."

"Still there is a way," said Villa.

The general regarded him with considerable surprise.

"How?" he asked.

"By the bed of the river."

"What do you mean?"

"The river," explained Pancho, "runs right beside the walls of the barracks. The water on this side is not so deep but that it is possible for men to march right up to the walls of the barracks, if they know the channel. I know it. If I had a hundred men who were not afraid I could carry the barracks.

"But," he continued, "in order to lead this force to the barracks un.o.bserved, it would be necessary for you first to attack the city from the opposite side. While the fighting is going on fiercely over there and the revolutionists are striving to prevent you from entering the city on the east, I will lead this hundred men into the barracks. As soon as we have rescued the Americans we will attack the revolutionists in the rear! You know what the result will be?"

"Undoubtedly!"

"Then you agree?"

"Yes; but I hardly know how to withdraw a hundred men from any one place on our attacking line. Our force is small as it is."

"I wish some of the rangers were over here," exclaimed Billie. "They'd help, I know."

"Yes," replied Gen. Sanchez, "but that is impossible. If any American soldiers were to help us it would be almost as bad at this particular time as though they helped the other side. We shall have to do the best we can. I will promise you fifty, and a hundred if possible. Return at 3:30 o'clock and I will give the order."

"I need a hundred men," declared Villa as he and Billie left the general's presence, "and I don't see how I can do with less."

"I'll tell you!" suddenly exclaimed Billie. "Maybe the rangers cannot come as rangers to help rescue Donald and Adrian, but they can come as friends of mine and I believe they will. I have at least five hours to get across the river and bring them back. I am going to try. It is the only way. I wonder if we can find a horse!"

"_Cierto!_" replied Villa. "We'll take the first good one we see!"

This they did, and ten minutes later Billie was again headed for the American sh.o.r.e.

Billie had been over the ground between Presidio and Presidio del Norte so many times that he thought he knew it perfectly, and as a result, although the night was dark, he put spurs to his mount and was quickly beyond the Federal outposts.

But the horse Billie was riding was not Jupiter. He was undoubtedly a good horse, as the speed at which he went fully testified. But it is one thing to have a horse that understands English and another to have one that understands only Mexican, as Billie soon discovered.

The horse which Billie had mounted at Pancho's suggestion was Mexican clear through. He had never been across the Rio Grande, nor had he the slightest knowledge of the ground over which he was running. He had come from the south only twenty-four hours before, and, despite all that Billie could do, he insisted in bearing away from the river. Time and again Billie forced him back into the right direction, as he thought, but after half an hour's hard riding, which should have brought him to the spot where the boys had landed from the boat, there was no river in sight.

"By George!" exclaimed Billie aloud, as he finally drew rein and peered into the darkness, "I wonder where that river has gone to. It ought to be around here somewhere!"

He turned his horse sharply to the left and for several minutes rode slowly along, looking all about his narrow horizon.

"Don't you know where you are?" he asked of the horse; but not understanding English, there was no answering movement of the animal's ears and no sense of that companionship which a horseman should feel from his mount.

"If I'd had Jupiter under me I wouldn't be in this fix!" thought Billie, and for a brief moment he was almost overcome with a sense of loneliness.

But there was no time to waste. The lives of his companions depended upon his success, and he hastily pulled himself together and spurred forward.

For another five minutes he galloped along, when all at once his horse went down upon his knees and only the saddle kept Billie from going over his head.

Quickly gathering himself, he tried his best with the reins to lift the animal to his feet; but his efforts were in vain and he was obliged to dismount.

One look at the ground beneath his feet was sufficient. He had ridden into the midst of a prairie dog village and his horse had fallen into one of the holes.

After some minutes, Billie succeeded in getting the animal on his feet; but when he mounted and started to ride, he found that the broncho was so lame he could scarcely move.

While the accident was unfortunate in one way, it was a good thing in another. It served as a landmark to tell Billie where he was-for the very first day the boys had arrived on the Rio Grande they had noticed it and Billie was sure that it was the only dog village for miles.

"I must be about two miles from Don Pablo's," he mused. "That makes me fully six miles from the city and with this lame pony I don't know how long it will take me to get there! I wish I could get hold of one of old Don Pablo's mules."

He gave the broncho a slap with the reata, not having the heart to use his spurs. The animal tried to go a bit faster, but the effort was a failure.

"I can walk faster than this," was the lad's next thought and without a moment's hesitation he threw himself from the horse and started in the direction of the river on a run.

"If I can only find that river," he muttered as he sped along. "I'll stick close to it until I reach town. It can't be so very far away!"

Billie was a good runner and he had learned in his months of experience on the plains how to run so as not to tire himself. It was vastly different from running along a beaten path, or even along a regular trail. The ground was covered with sand hummocks, and every once in a while he would run into a patch of sand so deep that it was impossible to do more than walk.

After some minutes Billie struck a belt of chaparral.

"Well!" he gasped, "this is encouraging, anyway. I am getting nearer the river."

Through the brush he ran and finally, to his great delight, he emerged into a beaten path.

"Now I'm all right," he thought. "This will lead me right down to the sh.o.r.e."

Encouraged by the thought, he put on more steam and spurted ahead; but when, after five minutes' running, he failed to come to the water, he stopped and looked around.

"I must be going in the wrong direction," he exclaimed, and turning, began to retrace his tracks.

For nearly ten minutes he kept on his course and then again stopped, pretty well tired out.

"This is something fierce!" he said aloud. "I'm in as bad a fix as that chap you read about in mythology, who was lost in a labyrinth. I used to think that was a pretty fishy story, but here I find myself in the same fix. I wish the stars would come out!"

But the stars failed to appear and Billie stood perplexed.

As he stood thus undecided, his ears caught the sound of a strange little cough and a smile spread itself over his face.

"The prairie dogs are barking at the pinto," he laughed. "Well, anyway, I know where I am as far as they are concerned. I must have gone pretty nearly in a circle. That wouldn't be strange for me, but why should this path go in a circle?"

He took off his sombrero and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"It's mighty funny," he continued, still thinking of the path.