CHAPTER XXI.
THE STAGE HOLD–UP.
Suddenly Jack saw the driver lurch forward in his seat. Perhaps he hadbeen killed, perhaps he was only badly injured.
Instantly Jack’s mind was made up. Snatching off his hat, he waved itabout his head.
At the same time he turned in his saddle and yelled back down thetrail, as if a numerous band was coming round the turn:
“Come on, boys! Hurry up and we’ll get them!”
The pursuers of the coach stopped suddenly. Then they wheeled theirponies about and dashed off at top speed. Jack’s ruse had succeeded.Evidently the highwaymen thought that a large body of horsemen wasbehind Jack. At any rate, they deemed it more prudent not to wait tofind out.
But only one serious aspect of the situation was relieved by the abruptdeparture of the highwaymen. The limp form of the coachman hung onthe box, almost toppling off the seat. The lines had dropped from hishands and lay on the backs of the terrified wheelers. On they came,thundering at runaway speed, while Jack hesitated, his mind full of thethought of that dangerous bit of road that lay ahead.
He shouted up to his companions on the roof:
“Hullo, boys! I’m with you again!”
There was a yell of joy. An answer to his hail came quickly.
“Jack Merrill, by all that’s wonderful!”
“Jack! How under the sun did he get here!”
“It’s Jack on deck again as usual!”
But Jack heard none of these joyous exclamations. He had turned hishorse almost on its haunches, owing to the narrowness of the trail. Inone swift flash of inspiration he had made up his mind as to the coursehe would pursue in checking the runaways.
He spurred his pony alongside the wheelers, crying out in as soothing atone as he could:
“Whoa, boys! Whoa, there!”
But the terrified animals paid no attention to him, nor had he muchexpected that they would. He only spoke to them in order that he mightnot frighten them worse when he spurred his pony alongside them.
He might have ridden in front of them, but the risk of causing them toswerve and precipitate the whole coach from the trail was too great.The most dangerous part of the road lay about a mile ahead. If onlyhe could check the team before they reached it, all might be well; ifnot—well, Jack did not dare to think of what would be the consequencesin such a case. Thus began a mad, dangerous ride, a ride of grave riskto the daring young Border Boy.
Of one thing he was thankful—the pony under him was a sure–footed,fast little beast, and perfectly broken, a rare thing in that part ofour country. This made it possible for Jack to loop his own reins aboutthe saddle horn and then, leaning out of the saddle, to seize the lineswhich the wounded driver had dropped.
This done, he began to pull gently on them, taking care not to terrifythe runaways further by jerking on their bits. Bracing himself in hisstirrups, Jack exerted a steady pressure on the reins, at the same timeusing every means he knew of to soothe the maddened beasts.
“Good boy, Jack! Good boy!” breathed Captain Atkinson from the roofof the coach, while he lifted the stricken stage driver to a place ofsafety. “Boys, Jack will save us yet,” he added, turning to his youngcompanions.
“You can bet on him every time,” came admiringly from Ralph. “He’llconquer them yet.”
But had Ralph known of the danger place that lay not so far ahead now,he might not have been so confident.
“Put on the brake!” Jack shouted back over his shoulder as they torealong that dangerous trail.
“Bless my soul! Why didn’t I think of that?” exclaimed Captain Atkinson.
Handing the driver over to the care of the boys, he clambered into theformer’s seat, and, placing his foot on the heavy California–stylebrake, he jammed it down with all his force.
“Good!” cried Jack as the wheels screeched and groaned.
The horses appeared more terrified than ever at the racket made bythe brake, but it was strong enough to check their speed perceptibly,struggle as they would.
A short distance further came a little rise, beyond which lay thedangerous spot that Jack dreaded. The rise completed what the brake hadbegun.
“They’re slackening speed, Jack!” cried Captain Atkinson.
“They are, indeed!” hurled back Jack. “I think I’ll have them undercontrol in a jiffy.”
Jack’s words came true, but none too soon. A few seconds more and theywould have reached the curve, beyond which lay the bit of narrow road.A thrill ran through Jack’s frame as he drew tight on the reins andfelt the tired animals slow up to a trot and then, obedient to hisvoice, come to a halt, sweating and trembling, with distended nostrils.
Jack lost no time in riding round to the heads of the leaders andholding tightly on to them. But there was little fight left in thehorses. Dragging the coach with its locked brake up that hill hadthoroughly exhausted them; they seemed glad to rest.
“Get out, boys!” shouted Jack. “Come and give me a hand to uncouple thetraces. I don’t think they’ll run again, but we won’t take chances.”
In an instant Ralph Stetson and Walt Phelps had sprung to the groundand one on either side of the coach were running forward to help Jackcomplete one of the bravest tasks a boy ever set himself to perform.
Naturally, it was not till the horses were calmed down that they hada chance to talk. In the meantime the stage driver, whose name wasJed Hoster, had been revived and was found to be painfully but notseriously injured. He had been shot through the shoulder.
We are not going to relate all that took place at that odd reunion inthe heart of the Ragged Range, as the barren hills were called. Everyone of my readers can picture for himself what a confusion of tonguesreigned as the boys all tried to talk at once, and relate their manyadventures since last they had met.
After awhile the coach, with Captain Atkinson at the “ribbons” andJack riding close alongside, was driven to a broad part of the road andthen turned around, as San Mercedes was closer to the spot where theattack had occurred than was Go ’long.
Captain Atkinson told the boys that he had not the least idea who themen that made the attack could have been, but surmised that they musthave possessed information that the coach was carrying a consignment ofgold dust from a desert mine for shipment at Go ’long.
“Had it not been for your smart trick, Jack,” he declared, “we shouldnever have got off as easily as we did.”
A sharp lookout was kept all the way back to San Mercedes for anothersight of the would–be robbers. But nothing more was seen of them, andthe return journey was made without incident. There was much rejoicingin the camp of the Rangers over the safe return of Jack, and evenShorty appeared to be glad that the boy had come unscathed through somany perils.
That was a gala night in camp. Songs and stories filled the time tillfar into the night. The three boys, who possessed remarkably goodvoices, sang several popular songs and were much applauded. At lastthey had to stop from sheer weariness.
Each lad was anxious to go out on duty along the Rio Grande that sameevening, but Captain Atkinson sternly forbade them doing so.
“You turn into your blankets and get a good sleep,” he ordered. “I’vegot another job on hand for you to–morrow and I want you to be freshwhen you tackle it.”
Much mystified and not a little excited at these words, the boysobediently turned in and were soon sound asleep. They were astir brightand early the next morning—just as the last patrol of the night wascoming in, in fact. The night had been an eventless one, they learned,the rebels having given no sign of their presence.
Soon after breakfast Captain Atkinson approached the boys, whowere polishing up their saddles and bits, accompanied by a tall,bronze–bearded man, whose tanned skin and keen gray eyes bespoke him adweller in the open places.
“This is Mr. Lionel Reeves, the rancher, of whom you may have heard,”he said. “Mr. Reeves, these are the lads of whom I spoke to you.”
“I am sure you
could not have picked better young fellows for the taskyou wish accomplished,” spoke Mr. Reeves, shaking hands warmly witheach of the boys in turn. “By the way, do they know about it?”
“Not yet,” rejoined Captain Atkinson, with a smile at the eager looksthat three pairs of eyes turned on him.
The Border Boys with the Texas Rangers Page 22