The Border Boys with the Mexican Rangers

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The Border Boys with the Mexican Rangers Page 3

by John Henry Goldfrap


  CHAPTER III.

  JACK’S ADVENTURE.

  A few stealthy footsteps served to bring him to the edge of the naturalrampart, and then, removing his sombrero, he peered over. What he saw afew feet below him caused him to exercise all his self-control to avoiduttering a sharp exclamation. Around a smoldering fire, above whichhung an iron pot that emitted a savory odor, lay several men. SwarthyMexicans they were, with villainous countenances for the most part,although, to Jack’s astonishment, one of the party had a fair Saxonskin and reddish hair, which, with his blue eyes, made him seem oddlyout of place in the midst of the dark-skinned, black-orbed group.

  But Jack had little time to note these details, for something elseentirely occupied his attention. This object was nothing less than oneof the party who sat somewhat apart, trying the edge of a huntingknife he had been sharpening upon a bit of madrone wood. In thehawk-like countenance and slender, active form, Jack Merrill had notthe least difficulty in recognizing Black Ramon de Barros himself. Ata short distance from the swarthy rascal grazed his famous coal-blackhorse. Even in his somewhat awkward position Jack could not repressa thrill of admiration as he gazed at the splendid proportions andanatomy of the glossy-coated beast, through whose delicate nostrils thelight shone redly.

  “Lucky thing I’m down the wind from that outfit,” thought the BorderBoy. “I’ve heard it said that Black Ramon’s horse can detect thepresence of a stranger as readily as a keen-scented fox.”

  Most of the Mexicans were rolling and smoking slender cigarettes ofpowdered tobacco and yellow corn paper. These had occasioned the acridsmell which had luckily betrayed the existence of the camp to Jackbefore a false step could make them aware of his presence. Expellinga cloud of blue smoke from his thin lips, Black Ramon began speaking.He was addressing the red-haired man who looked so oddly out of placealthough he wore Mexican garb, red sash, flowing trousers, short jacketand cone-crowned sombrero with a mighty rim.

  “You are sure that this Ruggles was not mistaken, Senor Canfield?” hewas saying.

  The other shook his head.

  “I’d take my oath to that on a stack of Bibles,” he said. “Ruggles wasa pretty level-headed chap although he led a fool’s life, and if hesays the In’jun told of a treasure in the Trembling Mountain he wasright.”

  “What puzzles me, though, is that he should have told you of it as wellas this Americano Stetson,—curses be upon him,”—grumbled Black Ramon.“If he was, as you say, ‘on the level,’ why should he have betrayed hisfriend’s confidence?”

  “Well, you see,” responded the man addressed as Canfield, slowly,“Ruggles and I had roughed it together a bit, and I reckon he was alittle off his head with worry and the approach of the fever when I methim in El Paso. Anyhow, he spun out the whole yarn, with the exceptionof the plan.”

  “We can do without that,” said Black Ramon, “I have often heard of theTrembling Mountain, and can, I believe, find it without difficulty. Butyou are sure that Senor Stetson has the plan?”

  “I know it for a fact. That was the reason that I hastened to dig youup as soon as I knew he was fitting out an expedition to go after thetreasure. I thought you were the most likely man in Mexico to carry outthe job.”

  “And you were not mistaken, Senor Canfield,” rejoined the other with agratified smile. “If the treasure is there we will get it out, even ifit were only to obtain revenge on those Gringoes, Jack Merrill and hischums. They drove me off the border, they tricked me in Chihuahua, butnow the cards have changed, and I hold the trumps. But you are certainwe are far ahead of them?”

  “Positive,” was the rejoinder, “they are at least two days’ marchbehind, and with our swift animals we shall make the strike first, donot fear.”

  Jack was puzzled.

  Clearly, from what he had heard, the Mexican leader knew nothing oftheir doings, but that they had started from Esmedora. On the otherhand, it appeared equally positive that Canfield was the man who hadcarried the message into their camp the night before and createdso much excitement. Jack noticed now, too, as a further means ofidentification, that Canfield’s hand was bandaged. Ramon seemed tonotice this also at the same instant.

  “Your hand is hurt, senor,” he said sharply, with a suspiciousinflection.

  “I cut it this morning while closing my knife,” rejoined Canfieldglibly.

  Ramson nodded and said nothing. In the meantime one of the Mexicanshad been busy dishing out the contents of the pot and handing portionsabout. The smell reminded Jack that he was excessively hungry andconcluding that he had heard about all he wanted to, he prepared todepart as silently as he had come. But as he moved his legs an alarmingthing happened. The rock upon which he had been resting gave waywithout the slightest warning. Jack made a desperate effort to avoidcrashing down with it, but he was unsuccessful. With a roar and crash,amid a flying cloud of dust, stones and twigs, the rock and the BorderBoy slid together into the midst of the camp of the man whom Jack hadevery reason on earth both to fear and detest.

  But even as he was making his avalanche-like slide down the steep bank.Jack’s active mind was at work.

  The instant his feet touched solid ground he sprang upright with aterrific yell:—

  “Yee-ow-ow-ow!”

  “Todos Santos! It is El Diablo,” shrilled some of the Mexicans. ButRamon, superstitious as he was, was not to be thus easily alarmed.

  “It’s a man!” he shouted, and then the next instant:—

  “Santa Maria! It’s one of the Border Boys!”

  But so quickly had Jack moved that by the time Ramon, the first toregain his wits, had recovered from his surprise, the lad was alreadyamong the Mexicans’ horses which were tethered at some little distance.Jack’s quick eye had noted that one of them was saddled and bridled.Like a flash he was in the saddle, and plying the quirt with mightand main. Behind him came a fusilade of shots, and he could feel thebullets whistle as he crouched low on his stolen steed’s neck. But hehad assumed, and the event proved correctly, that the Mexicans wouldnot risk killing one of their horses.

  “Don’t hit the horse!” the fleeing boy heard Ramon shout, as hedashed off. He really had no idea in what direction he was going, butflogging his mount with unmerciful ferocity for the kind-hearted Jack,the lad made all speed from the vicinity of the Mexican camp.

  “Hooray, I’ve shaken them off, anyhow,” he thought to himself, as,after ten minutes or so of hard riding he heard the shouts and cries ofthe Mexicans grow faint behind him.

  But in this assumption Jack had reckoned without his host, in the shapeof Black Ramon’s famous sable steed.

  As he drew rein he heard distinctly the sound of a horse coming towardhis halting place at a terrific gait. No other horse than Black Ramon’scould have kept up such a speed over such ground, and Jack, with asinking heart, realized that if he did not act quickly he was likely tofall into the outlaw’s hands once more.

  The spot where he had halted was a small rocky eminence surrounded bythe luxuriant fern and scrub growth which clothed the rugged floor ofthe canyon.

  To turn his panting animal and head off into the dense growth was thework of an instant. Hardly had he vanished, however, before the fernparted once more and disclosed the form of Ramon’s black horse with theoutlaw himself upon his glossy back.

  Like Jack, Ramon halted as he reached the little eminence, and listenedintently. Despite the speed he had made in pursuit, the black showedhardly a trace of fatigue. His finely carved nostrils dilated a littlemore than usual and his large, intelligent eyes shone more brightlyperhaps, but that was all. He pricked his delicate ears and seemed tobe as keenly on the alert as his master, whose face, just now, wore anexpression of almost diabolic rage and baffled fury.

  In the meantime, Jack was loping along at as fast a pace as he dared togo. The ground, as has been said, was rough and stony to a degree,—theworst sort of going for one who wished to conceal the sound of hisadvance. But there was no help for it; press on the boy must, or fallinto the
hands of men whom he knew would give him short shrift indeed.

  “If ever this old plug stumbles—”

  Such was the thought in Jack’s mind when the exact event he had dreadedtranspired.

  His purloined animal gave a plunge forward as its feet caught in a rockand a tangle of fern.

  The next instant Jack was shot like a projectile through space, whilethe horse, with an almost human groan of pain, sank to the ground. Atthe same time Ramon, halted on the little hill, caught the sound of thecrash.

  A cruel smile curled his thin lips, exposing his long yellowteeth—almost like those of some beast of prey. With a whispered wordto his black horse the Mexican outlaw plunged into the brush in thedirection of the sound which had just reached his ears.

 

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