CHAPTER VIII.
TOO LATE!
As the boys breathlessly watched, they saw a burro emerge fromamong the rocks on the left of the trail. There was no load on theburro's back, and the shaggy little animal was being driven by tworuffianly-looking men. One of the men had a club, and every once in awhile he would reach over and hit the burro a heavy blow. The burrowould flinch and leap ahead; then, apparently forgetting what hadhappened, would lag again and the blow would be repeated.
"The brute!" muttered Chub.
"Two brutes besides the burro," whispered Matt, "if I'm any judge offaces. Listen!"
The men had headed the burro along the trail, and would soon passthe point where Matt and Chub were hiding. They continued to talk asthey approached. Evidently they were well pleased over something, foroccasionally one of them would give a hoarse laugh.
"Hawley ort ter pay me well fer this," said one of the scoundrels."You git half the claim, Jacks, purvidin' Hawley don't beat ye out o'it, but I'm only gittin' what I airn."
"Don't ye be in no takin', Bisbee, erbout Hawley beatin' me out o' myshare in the 'strike,'" replied Jacks. "He's an' ole fox, but he ain'tno more of a fox'n what I am."
"Waal, I kin split on his game if he don't treat me right," scowledBisbee; "I kin tell about smashin' that machine at the Bluebell thismornin', on my way out yar, an' I kin tell about what we done at theole Santa Maria, with----"
At that interesting point the two rascals passed out of ear-shot. Chub,awed by what they had heard, stared excitedly at Matt.
"One of 'em was Jacks!" he muttered; "the four-flush with the club wasthe prospector who was threatenin' dad with trouble!"
"And the other's name is Bisbee," said Matt, "and he came out here thismorning and smashed that wireless apparatus on his way. Hawley didn'tlose much time getting busy after Perry gave him that letter!"
"They're goin' after dad now, that's a cinch!" exclaimed Chub. "Let'sfollow 'em right up, Matt, an' have a hand in what happens--that is, ifanything is goin' to happen. I guess dad and you and me can take careof those two handy boys, all right."
By that time the two men and the burro were well out of sight, andthe boys, mounting their machines, started slowly after them, workinglaboriously at the pedals, so that their presence in the vicinity mightnot be betrayed by the volleying of explosions.
As they proceeded, the rocks gradually disappeared from the sidesof the trail and the country flattened into a level mesa. To theastonishment of Matt and Chub, nothing was to be seen of the two men onthis level stretch.
"Where'd they go?" queried the puzzled Chub, stopping his machine for afew words with his chum.
"They must have left the trail again, back somewhere among the rocks,"replied Matt.
"Then maybe we're off the track," suggested Chub anxiously. "If Jacksand Bisbee were going to the scene of dad's 'strike,' why----"
"We're not off the track," interrupted Motor Matt. "Look over there,Chub!"
Matt pointed as he spoke. Chub, following his chum's finger with hiseyes, saw a dun-colored peak rising to the left of the trail, andhalf-way up the side of the uplift, the sun glimmered on a couple ofintersecting lines that formed a cross.
"The white cross!" whispered Chub. "We're headed right, Matt, and nomistake. But where in Sam Hill are Bisbee and Jacks? If they weren'tcoming here, where _were_ they goin'? Put me wise."
"Let's stop fretting about Bisbee and Jacks. The fortune of theMcReadys lies over there, at the foot of that peak, and now's ourchance to cinch it."
The words sent a thrill through Chub. Once more he remembered what this"strike" might mean to his father, and Susie and himself. Their yearsin Arizona had been lean enough, and all of them had felt the bitterpinch of poverty. Now, suddenly, Fortune had shown them her smile, andif they were to profit by it, they must beat down the evil schemesof the gambler. Hawley and his confederates alone stood between theMcReadys and the goal toward which the prospector had been strugglingfor so long.
With a bounding heart Chub turned from the trail and headed straightfor the white cross on the peak.
"It takes you to ginger a fellow up, Matt!" cried Chub. "Dad's claimis almost in sight, and it won't be long before we're racing back toPhoenix with a location notice. I was beginnin' to feel discouraged,an' that's a fact, but I'm right on my toes now and sure we're goin' towin. Hurrah for the McReady strike!"
There was no trail where the boys were riding, but the ground wassmooth and level and there was nothing to prevent them from making goodspeed. Only a quarter of a mile lay between the pack-trail and theclaim, and the distance was soon covered.
"There are the monuments!" called Chub, waving his hand.
Matt looked ahead and saw a collection of stones. There were five ofthese piles, four standing at the corners of an oblong square, andmarking the limits of the claim. In the center of the square was a heapas large as two of the others, and Chub kept on toward it.
As Matt followed, he saw that this large heap of stones had a shortpole protruding from the middle. A board was fastened to the top of thepole, and there was a square, white paper tacked to the board.
When Chub reached the center monument he tumbled off his motor-cyclein the midst of a rude little camp. A pack-saddle lay on the ground,and near it was a canvas-wrapped bundle. A pile of wood was heaped nearsome smoke-blackened stones, and to one side were a dingy coffee-potand a skillet.
"Dad's camp!" muttered Chub. "He bunked right down by his centermonument and was bound Jacks shouldn't get the best of him. Pluckyold dad!" Chub's voice trembled a little. "He's fought hard for this,Matt--nobody, not even Susie and me, knows how hard."
"It's a long lane, Chub," said Matt, "that has no turning. Hard luckcan't dog a fellow always. Is that your father's pack-burro?"
Chub looked in the direction Matt was pointing. Off beyond the confinesof the claim, a burro was grazing on the mesquit-bushes. A small springwas close by. The burro was hobbled so that he could not stray far fromthe camp.
"Sure enough!" laughed Chub; "that's old Baldy himself. When we comeinto our money, we'll put Baldy in a gold barn and let him stuff hisold hide with patent breakfast-food."
"Maybe Baldy'll like that," laughed Matt, "and maybe he won't."
"Anyhow," grinned Chub, "he looks like he could stand a little stuffingwith just plain hay. He's helped dad through the hills for the lastfive years--the two of them have gone thirsty and hungry together, andknocked into more hardships and out of them again than anybody'll everknow. But right here's where they win. Look at that 'blow-out,' willyou, Matt?"
By "blow-out," Chub meant a lot of white quartz that was litteringthe ground in every direction. He picked up a piece and held it underMatt's eyes. The stone was flecked with little yellow grains.
"Gold!" cried Chub; "the rock's just full of it. Say, it's a wonderthis claim's laid here as long as it has. I'll bet that dozens ofprospectors have been around it--but it was dad that found 'er!Whoop-ee!"
Chub jerked off his cap suddenly and hurled it into the air; then, inthe excess of his joy, he caught hold of Matt and whirled him aroundand around in the wildest kind of a dance.
But there were some things about the situation which Matt couldn'tunderstand. He hated to throw any cold water on Chub's effusivespirits, and yet he knew that they ought to probe to the bottom of thesituation.
"Where's your father, Chub?" Matt inquired, as his chum let loose ofhim.
"Why, he must have set out for Phoenix to file the duplicate locationnotice," replied Chub, sitting down on the side of the rock pile. "Yousee, Matt, that letter was five days gettin' to us. Hawley had itfor a day, and the Mexican must have had it longer than he admitted,or else dad was wrong in his dates when he wrote it. I guess dad gottired waiting for me to come out, and so he began to scratch gravel forPhoenix on his own hook."
Matt was wondering why Jacks and Bisbee had appeared so delightedduring their talk on the pack-trail. From their manner, and what theyhad said, he had got the i
dea that they had accomplished something forHawley.
"I thought your father didn't have any location blanks," went on Matt,"and that he wanted you to come and bring them."
"He must have found some blanks somewhere," returned Chub.
"Did he have a horse with him, besides the burro?"
Chub stared.
"Why, no, Matt," said he. "Prospectors don't ride. They just walk, an'drive their pack-burros ahead of them."
"Your father only had one burro?"
"That's all. What's buzzin' around in your nut, anyway, Matt?"
"I'm wondering why your father should pull out for Phoenix and leaveold Baldy behind. He wouldn't walk all the way to town, would he, andleave the burro and his camp-truck here?"
The words startled Chub. A look of alarm drove all the joy out of hisfreckled face.
"Oh, slush! That's me, all right!" he muttered. "I'm goin' offhalf-cocked, as per usual. There's a whole lot of things I'mforgettin'. For instance, that talk we overheard between Jacks andBisbee. That lacked a good deal of being encouraging to the McReadys.And then, again, where's Dace Perry? He ought to be around heresomewhere, but I'm not seeing much of him. Anyhow," and Chub lookedup at the board on top of the pole, "dad found his location noticesomewhere, and we can't be euchred out of the claim."
"Look at the notice, Chub," suggested Matt. "See what sort of a nameyour father gave the claim."
"I'll make a guess that it's 'McReady's Pride,' or 'McReady's Hope,' orsomething like that," said Chub, climbing to the top of the rock pile.
Hanging to the pole, he brought his eyes close to the notice. Matt sawhis hands grip the pole hard, while a cry of savage disappointmentescaped his lips.
"What's wrong?" asked Matt.
Chub looked down dazedly at his chum.
"Why--why," he faltered huskily, "dad didn't put up this notice at all.The claim is named the 'Pauper's Dream,' and the locators are down as'Jacks and Hawley.'"
"Jacks and Hawley?" echoed Matt.
"Yes," roared Chub, grabbing the notice and jerking it fiercely off theboard, "the gambler's won out on us, Matt. Jacks has put up his notice,and some one is now on the way to Phoenix to file a duplicate."
Chub tumbled off the rock pile, sat on the ground at the foot of it,and covered his face with his hands.
"We got here, old fellow," said Chub brokenly, "but we got here _toolate_!"
A wave of consternation rolled over Matt.
He had been fearing that something was wrong, but up to this moment hehadn't entertained the least notion that Hawley's dastardly plans hadalready succeeded.
"And the worst of it is, Matt," whispered Chub, looking up, "we don'tknow anything about dad. What have they done with him?"
Motor Matt's Daring; or, True to His Friends Page 9