The Border Boys with the Texas Rangers

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER XX.

  WHERE STRATEGY WON OUT.

  Their coming was viewed by a dozen swarthy faces thrust out of theschoolhouse windows. As the aeroplane drew near the building Lieut.Sancho raised his voice above the humming of the engine.

  In a loud authoritative tone he called for attention.

  “If that schoolhouse is not vacated inside of five minutes,” he snappedout, “I shall dynamite it.”

  A derisive chorus of yells greeted this, although a few voices could beheard begging the officer to have mercy.

  “Hand me that ‘bomb,’ Diaz,” ordered the officer as the aeroplane camein full view of the schoolhouse.

  Seizing this opportunity, Lieut. Sancho manipulated the air craft withone hand while he apparently examined the “bomb” with deep attention.He took good care while doing this to handle it so that it might beplainly seen by the Mestizos.

  The aeroplane continued its flight above the schoolhouse roof, andthen, swinging round, was driven back again. As they came over for thesecond time Lieut. Sancho hailed the recalcitrants once more.

  “Throw your rifles and weapons out of the windows or I’ll drop thebomb. The five minutes is almost up.”

  This time there was no answer but a sullen roar. Apparently theoccupants of the schoolhouse were quarreling among each other. Theaeroplane was flown a short distance and then turned for another flighttoward the schoolhouse.

  “Here, take the wheel, Diaz,” ordered Lieut. Sancho. “I’m going to letthem see that we mean business.”

  With Lieut. Diaz at the wheel, his brother officer manipulated the“bomb” in truly alarming manner. Bending low over it and striking amatch, he appeared to light its fuse. Then, holding on to a brace, hehalf rose out of his seat, and as they neared the schoolhouse he raisedhis arm as if poising the “bomb” before hurling it.

  It was too much for the nerves of the besieged. With wild cries toLieut. Sancho not to kill them, they began casting their rifles andrevolvers out of the windows in a perfect hail. Lieut. Sancho appearedto stay his hand, but was still menacing.

  “Todos! Todos!” (“All! All!”)

  He shouted this as they thundered close above the schoolhouse roof. Ashe did so the schoolhouse door was opened and out rushed the terrified,demoralized Mestizos, who were swiftly made prisoners by the Federalswithout their offering more than a nominal resistance.

  By the time the last had been captured, while the aeroplane drew closeto the scene, from the town, whence the proceedings had been watchedwith interest, several citizens came running, now that all the dangerof bullets seemed to be past.

  “Well, after what I’ve seen,” declared Jack, “never tell me that theaeroplane isn’t any good in warfare. To–day it averted what might havebeen a bloody fight, and, as it was, not a man was even scratched,except in his feelings. By the way, Lieutenant, what was in that‘bomb’?”

  “A very deadly mixture,” laughed the officer in return, “a solution ofEpsom salts!”

  “Here I be, the mayor of that thar berg back thar,” said an individualwith a bristly straw–colored mustache, hastening up. “What be all thesehere connipations a–goin’ on out hyar?”

  “Why, Mr. Mayor,” rejoined Jack, “these two gentlemen are officers ofthe Mexican Federal troops detailed to aerial duty.”

  “Waal, what be they doin’ this side of ther Border? I’ve a good mindter put ’em in ther calaboose, the dern long–horns,” declared the mayorangrily.

  “Inasmuch as they saved a lot of children and their teacher from roughtreatment by a band of rebels, I don’t think that would be very fair,”said Jack.

  “Humph!” grunted the mayor, “I was comin’ out hyar to git thermavericks on ther run myself, but I had an attack of indigestion.”

  “I guess that was when you heard the shooting,” thought Jack to himself.

  Aloud, though, he continued:

  “The Mestizos were captured by as clever a ruse as can be imagined, Mr.Mayor.”

  “Eh, how’s that, young feller?”

  “By a bottle of Epsom salts.”

  “Say, see here, kid, it ain’t healthy ter git funny with yer elders inthese hyar parts.”

  “It’s the exact truth, I assure you,” declared Jack smilingly, quiteignoring the mayor’s frown. He went on to tell the full details of thefight, or rather the argument, and when he had finished not one of theassembled crowd was there that did not join in the laugh.

  “An’ how did you come to be hyar, young feller?” asked the mayor at theconclusion of Jack’s story. “You beant a greaser.”

  “No, but I have found that there are a few brave and clever men on theother side of the line, too,” declared Jack.

  “Ther kid’s right,” assented one or two in the crowd.

  Jack then told as much of his adventures as he thought necessary,and at the conclusion the delighted mayor clapped him on the back soheartily that the breath was almost driven out of his body.

  “I’ll give yer all ther liberty of Go ’long,” he said, sweeping hishand back toward his little principality.

  But the two Mexican officers were obliged to refuse the mayor’shospitality. A short time after the Federal troops had departed withtheir prisoners of war the two airmen winged their way southward totheir headquarters.

  As for Jack, he had ascertained that San Mercedes was only twenty milesor so off, so he determined to hire a horse and ride over there earlyin the morning. That night he slept in a bed for the first time in manylong hours, and with his anxieties cleared away and his heart light,his slumbers were deep and dreamless. He was awakened by the ubiquitousmayor, who was also the hotel–keeper. Incidentally, the pretty schoolteacher turned out to be his daughter. Her enthusiastic praises of Jackthe night before had made the boy blush hotly, but that was nothing tohis embarrassment a few moments later when the town band, consisting ofa cornet and a drum, headed a procession to the hotel and he had beencompelled to give a speech.

  Jack felt glad on waking that all that was over, and that in a shorttime he would be on his way back to his friends in the camp of theRangers. The town of Go ’long did not offer much in the way of a menubeyond blackstrap and hot cakes, beans, bacon and black coffee, butJack made a hearty meal on these frontier delicacies, after which hewas informed that his pony was at the door.

  His landlord, whose name, by the way, was Jerry Dolittle, refused totake a cent from the boy, and told him that when the Rangers came thatway next his old friend, Captain Atkinson, could return him the pony.

  The greater part of the population of Go ’long had accompanied Jackabout a mile on his way, but soon he was ambling along alone witha straight road in front of him. Naturally his mind was busy withspeculations as to what had occurred in the camp during his longabsence from it.

  “Good old Walt! Dear old Ralph! Won’t they be glad to see me!” hemused as he rode along across the plains; “won’t I be glad to see them,too! Gracious, what a lot we shall have to talk about! I won’t blamethem if they don’t believe half of it. I can hardly believe it myselfsometimes, and that’s a fact.”

  Between San Mercedes and Go ’long the rough road led through one ofthose peculiarly desolate ranges of hills common in that part of ourcountry. As Jack’s pony began to mount into the recesses of thesegloomy, barren hills, the lad knew that he had come a dozen miles or sofrom the Go ’long hotel.

  The road wound along the bottom of the steep, sandy gullies, whichwere in some places streaked gorgeously with strata of various colors,red, blue and bright orange. Above burned a sky of brilliant blue. Itwould have made a splendid subject for the canvas of an impressionisticpainter.

  Jack knew that somewhere within these hills he ought to meet thedaily stage that ran between San Mercedes and Go ’long. At least, suchhad been the information given him before he set out from the latterplace. He was quite anxious to see it, as on his lonely ride he hadnot encountered a human face. The solitary nature of the barren hillsthrough which he was now riding depress
ed him, too, with a sense ofremoteness and lonesomeness.

  As Jack rode he commented to himself on the rugged character of thescenery. The road, which would have hardly been dignified with the nameof a trail in the east, crawled along the side of the bare hills, insome places overhanging gloomy canyons.

  “This must be a dangerous place to drive a stage,” thought Jack as hepassed by a big rock and found himself traversing a bit of road whichbordered the edge of a mountain spur, with a precipice on one side anda deep canyon on the other.

  In fact, had the lad known it, that particular bit of road was reputedto be about the worst even in that wild land. Should the horses make amisstep on the trail, instant death to every occupant of the coach mustresult.

  There were few drivers, even the most reckless, that cared to go atmore than a snail’s pace over that stretch of road even with thequietest team. True, the passage had been made on one occasion atnight, but that was for a wild and foolish bet and the authorities hadput a stop to any more such practices. So that Jack was not far outwhen he mentally appraised that bit of road as being as dangerous andnasty a track to negotiate as he had ever seen; and Jack had seen agood deal of the wild southwest.

  The boy had passed the dangerous bit of road and was jogging along in adeep divide between two ranges, when he was startled by a sudden soundright ahead of him.

  It was unmistakably a shot.

  A rifle shot, too, the boy judged. He spurred forward rapidly, notknowing well just what to expect when he should round a curve in theroad just ahead.

  It did flash into his mind that his landlord at Go ’long had spoken ofthe coach being held up occasionally, but Jack had placed little stockin the stories. In fact, he rather inclined to think that old Jerry wastelling them with the idea of getting a rise out of a Tenderfoot.

  Still, there were a few mines in that part of the country andoccasionally gold was shipped through to Go ’long, which was not farfrom the main line of the Southern Pacific Railroad.

  But Jack had only made a few paces forward on his quickened mount whenthree other shots rang out in rapid succession.

  “Now I am perfectly sure there is trouble on the trail ahead!”exclaimed Jack to himself, urging his pony forward at a yet faster gait.

  The idea of personal danger did not enter Jack’s head, although thescene that he beheld as he swept round the curve on his galloping ponymight well have alarmed an older hand than he.

  Coming toward him at a hard gallop was the Go ’long coach. Its sixhorses were in a lather of perspiration, and the coach was swayingwildly from side to side.

  From the top of the coach a fusilade was being fired at three men inpursuit of the vehicle. These latter appeared to be returning the firewith good will.

  At almost the same moment that his eye took in these details Jackbecame aware that, besides the driver of the stage, there were threeother occupants on the roof.

  These were Captain Atkinson of the Rangers, Ralph Stetson and WaltPhelps.

  As he perceived all this Jack drew his pony back on his haunches andwaited whatever might turn up, for it was his determination to aid hisfriends.