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They moved in a bent-over position, making their way from bush to bush, careful to move silently. Rick's pulse began to hammer. Why should anyone come to the ghost town, especially in a darkened vehicle? For the first time he felt hope. They might find out something of importance after all!
Scotty led the way, taking advantage of every bit of cover, and in a short time they emerged from the desert behind the row of ghostly, abandoned buildings. Rick recognized the hotel, the only two-story structure in the town. It was directly in front of them.
"Wait here a minute," Scotty whispered. He moved quickly and silently into the shadow of the livery stable. Scotty was skillful at this kind of work, and Rick knew it was best to let him reconnoiter alone.
Presently Scotty materialized from the shadows and moved to Rick's side.
He whispered, "They came in a sedan. I couldn't see any lights, but I heard voices. They're in the hotel."
"Let's get closer," Rick replied softly.
Scotty plucked at his sleeve and Rick followed, moving swiftly into the shadow of the livery stable. Scotty moved slowly along the wall, then crossed the narrow alley between the stable and hotel with one long step, hesitating at the hotel corner. Rick followed silently. There was a window. Scotty crouched, so he would be below the window, and scuttled past it. Rick was right behind him.
The rear door of the hotel was next. Scotty's gesture told Rick they would stop there and try to listen. Scotty moved a few steps and stopped once more. He was in position. Rick crowded close behind him, then moved out from the wall a little so that he, too, could hear directly through the door.
From almost under his foot came a strident, warning buzz, and an icy ripple moved down his back. A snake! And he couldn't even see it! He froze where he was, muscles tense for the shock of needle-sharp fangs.
He waited an eternity, not even daring to breathe. There were voices from within the hotel, but he didn't hear what they were saying. At that moment he couldn't possibly have cared less.
Then, his probing eyes saw the faint outline of the creature, half coiled, flattened head weaving. It was barely beyond striking distance.
He watched it, not daring to look away, not daring to move.
Had Scotty heard the snake? But of course he must have. Rick reached with infinite caution and tugged at his pal's sleeve. Scotty would have to move first. Then Rick could move slowly to a position tight against the wall, where Scotty was now. Only by moving into the wall could he get away from the snake.
But in that moment the rattler apparently decided it had waited long enough. The evil head moved slowly toward Rick's foot.
Rick couldn't help it. He let out an involuntary yelp and jumped sideways, into Scotty. Scotty had no place to go but through the hotel door. He crashed into the rickety, partly hanging door, Rick on top of him.
Rick tried to get to his feet, sensing sudden noise and movement within the hotel, but he wasn't fast enough. A hand grabbed him by the arm and hauled him upright, and a fist glanced off his cheek-bone, snapping his head back.
Scotty, underneath, gathered his feet under him and charged like a plunging fullback, directly into the hotel. There was a grunt as the boy's head met yielding flesh, then a powerful arm circled his neck and he was lifted off his feet, fighting for breath.
A hand yanked Rick forward. His arms were twisted behind him. A pencil flashlight flicked on briefly and a voice muttered, "It's a couple of kids!"
Rick struggled, but subsided when it became clear that he could do nothing but wrench his arms out of joint.
A man muttered, "Rope in the car trunk."
Feet sounded on the boards of the hotel. Rick tried to pierce the gloom, to see his captors, but there wasn't enough light to see more than vague shapes. He had never heard the voices before. The feet came back. The voice said, "Lash 'em tight."
Rick was dumped face down on the dusty floor. Expert hands tied his wrists and ankles tight and lashed them together, with his knees bent at an acute angle and his shoulders pulled back. Next to him he sensed that Scotty was getting the same treatment.
A voice whispered, "Wonder who they are?"
"Doesn't matter," the first voice said. "We'll be out of here in fifteen minutes, if the others keep to schedule, and we won't be back. We can't use this place again."
A third voice broke in. "I didn't see a car. They must have cached it somewhere."
"You're right," the first voice agreed. "Find it, and fix it. Where'll we put these kids?"
The second voice had a suggestion. "The old jail across the street. We can lash 'em to the bunks."
Rick felt himself lifted like a sack of grain. He swayed as the man lugged him through the front of the hotel, across the porch, and into the street. His captor rounded the car that was waiting there and Rick strained to turn his head, to try to see the license plate, but couldn't catch a glimpse of it.
A creaky door was swung open and he was carried into an inner room and dropped face down. It knocked the breath out of him for a moment. When he recovered, he was tightly lashed to a rusty iron frame. His groping fingers felt the frame and the rope, but the knots were beyond his reach.
A voice asked, "Will we turn 'em loose later? We don't want 'em to die in here."
"They won't. They can get loose, but it will take a while and we'll be long gone. Come on."
The door creaked again. Rick listened to the sound of footsteps across loose boards, then there was silence.
Scotty whispered, "What do we do now? Wait for the Lone Ranger and Tonto?"
Rick had to grin, in spite of their plight. "Looks like it," he agreed.
There was something ridiculous about being bundled into an antique Western jail. "Anyway, we didn't get bitten by that blasted snake."
"That worried me plenty," Scotty agreed. "Can you move at all?"
Rick's fingers hadn't stopped exploring. "Not much. How about you?"
"There's a sharp end of wire under my hands. I'm going to see if I can loosen the knots. Keep working."
"Don't worry," Rick whispered fervently. "I will."
Silence fell, except for an occasional sc.r.a.pe as they struggled. Rick's arms began to hurt, and his neck felt as though it would never straighten again. Gradually he worked the rope end into reach and began to move it, hoping to loosen the knot. Then there was a soft exclamation of triumph from Scotty.
"Are you free?" Rick whispered quickly.
"No. But I pulled the rope between my wrists and ankles loose enough so I can move. Just a minute."
Scotty got to his knees, balancing precariously. "I'm going to try to slide my hands down the frame to yours."
Rick strained his neck trying to see if there were any obstacles in the way, but he could see nothing. Scotty grunted. "I think I'm hung up on a bolt that's sticking through the frame." There was silence for a few moments while the boy struggled. "Made it," he muttered. "The ropes loosened a little."
Presently Rick felt Scotty's fingers and moved his own, seeking the ropes around his pal's wrists. He probed, trying to find the key to the knots. Finally, his right forefinger touched a free end, and he followed it into a twist of rope. His first two fingers could just reach the twist, and he set to work on it, moving the rope back and forth, trying to pull on it. Suddenly it gave.
"One," he said softly. There was another knot immediately under the loop he had just untied. It was tougher than the first one, but eventually he made it.
"I think you loosened it a little," Scotty said. "Maybe I can slide a knot over that bolt and pull loose."
Scotty moved away from him, sliding his hands along the rusty frame. The boys worked in silence, Rick tackling his own knots again while Scotty tried to use the rusty bolt as a lever.
Rick had to give up for a while. His hands hurt too much, and he knew that Scotty's must be hurting, too.
"Listen!" Scotty said suddenly.
A car, or a truck, was approaching the town, from the direction of Careless Mesa!
The boys tackled the knots with desperation and suddenly Scotty fell forward as his hands loosened.