The Mucker

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by Edgar Rice Burroughs


  CHAPTER XV. AN INDIAN'S TREACHERY

  THE Brazos pony had traveled far that day but for only a trifle over tenmiles had he carried a rider upon his back. He was, consequently, farfrom fagged as he leaped forward to the lifted reins and tore along thedusty river trail back in the direction of Orobo.

  Never before had Brazos covered ten miles in so short a time, for it wasnot yet five o'clock when, reeling with fatigue, he stopped, staggeredand fell in front of the office building at El Orobo.

  Eddie Shorter had sat in the chair as Barbara and Billy had last seenhim waiting until Byrne should have an ample start before arousingGrayson and reporting the prisoner's escape. Eddie had determined thathe would give Billy an hour. He grinned as he anticipated the rage ofGrayson and the Villistas when they learned that their bird had flown,and as he mused and waited he fell asleep.

  It was broad daylight when Eddie awoke, and as he looked up at thelittle clock ticking against the wall, and saw the time he gave anexclamation of surprise and leaped to his feet. Just as he opened theouter door of the office he saw a horseman leap from a winded ponyin front of the building. He saw the animal collapse and sink to theground, and then he recognized the pony as Brazos, and another glance atthe man brought recognition of him, too.

  "You?" cried Eddie. "What are you doin' back here? I gotta take younow," and he started to draw his revolver; but Billy Byrne had himcovered before ever his hand reached the grip of his gun.

  "Put 'em up!" admonished Billy, "and listen to me. This ain't no timefer gunplay or no such foolishness. I ain't back here to be took--getthat out o' your nut. I'm tipped off that a bunch o' siwashes was downhere last night to swipe Miss Harding. Come! We gotta go see if she'shere or not, an' don't try any funny business on me, Eddie. I ain'ta-goin' to be taken again, an' whoever tries it gets his, see?"

  Eddie was down off the porch in an instant, and making for theranchhouse.

  "I'm with you," he said. "Who told you? And who done it?"

  "Never mind who told me; but a siwash named Esteban was to pull thething off for Grayson. Grayson wanted Miss Harding an' he was goin' tohave her stolen for him."

  "The hound!" muttered Eddie.

  The two men dashed up onto the veranda of the ranchhouse and pounded atthe door until a Chinaman opened it and stuck out his head, inquiringly.

  "Is Miss Harding here?" demanded Billy.

  "Mlissy Hardie Kleep," snapped the servant. "Wally wanee here floblekfas?", and would have shut the door in their faces had not Billyintruded a heavy boot. The next instant he placed a large palm over thecelestial's face and pushed the man back into the house. Once inside hecalled Mr. Harding's name aloud.

  "What is it?" asked the gentleman a moment later as he appeared in abedroom doorway off the living-room clad in his pajamas. "What's thematter? Why, gad man, is that you? Is this really Billy Byrne?"

  "Sure," replied Byrne shortly; "but we can't waste any time chinnin'. Iheard that Miss Barbara was goin' to be swiped last night--I heard thatshe had been. Now hurry and see if she is here."

  Anthony Harding turned and leaped up the narrow stairway to the secondfloor four steps at a time. He hadn't gone upstairs in that fashion inforty years. Without even pausing to rap he burst into his daughter'sbedroom. It was empty. The bed was unruffled. It had not been slept in.With a moan the man turned back and ran hastily to the other rooms uponthe second floor--Barbara was nowhere to be found. Then he hasteneddownstairs to the two men awaiting him.

  As he entered the room from one end Grayson entered it from the otherthrough the doorway leading out upon the veranda. Billy Byrne had heardfootsteps upon the boards without and he was ready, so that as Graysonentered he found himself looking straight at the business end of asixshooter. The foreman halted, and stood looking in surprise first atBilly Byrne, and then at Eddie Shorter and Mr. Harding.

  "What does this mean?" he demanded, addressing Eddie. "What you doin'here with your prisoner? Who told you to let him out, eh?"

  "Can the chatter," growled Billy Byrne. "Shorter didn't let me out. Iescaped hours ago, and I've just come back from Jose's to ask you whereMiss Harding is, you low-lived cur, you. Where is she?"

  "What has Mr. Grayson to do with it?" asked Mr. Harding. "How should heknow anything about it? It's all a mystery to me--you here, of all menin the world, and Grayson talking about you as the prisoner. I can'tmake it out. Quick, though, Byrne, tell me all you know about Barbara."

  Billy kept Grayson covered as he replied to the request of Harding.

  "This guy hires a bunch of Pimans to steal Miss Barbara," he said. "Igot it straight from the fellow he paid the money to for gettin' him theright men to pull off the job. He wants her it seems," and Billy shota look at the ranch foreman that would have killed if looks could. "Shecan't have been gone long. I seen her after midnight, just before I mademy getaway, so they can't have taken her very far. This thing here can'thelp us none neither, for he don't know where she is any more'n we do.He thinks he does; but he don't. The siwashes framed it on him, an'they've doubled-crossed him. I got that straight too; but, Gawd! I don'tknow where they've taken her or what they're goin' to do with her."

  As he spoke he turned his eyes for the first time away from Grayson andlooked full in Anthony Harding's face. The latter saw beneath the strongcharacter lines of the other's countenance the agony of fear and doubtthat lay heavy upon his heart.

  In the brief instant that Billy's watchful gaze left the figure of theranch foreman the latter saw the opportunity he craved. He was standingdirectly in the doorway--a single step would carry him out of range ofByrne's gun, placing a wall between it and him, and Grayson was not slowin taking that step.

  When Billy turned his eyes back the Texan had disappeared, and by thetime the former reached the doorway Grayson was halfway to the officebuilding on the veranda of which stood the four soldiers of Villagrumbling and muttering over the absence of their prisoner of theprevious evening.

  Billy Byrne stepped out into the open. The ranch foreman called aloud tothe four Mexicans that their prisoner was at the ranchhouse and as theylooked in that direction they saw him, revolver in hand, coming slowlytoward them. There was a smile upon his lips which they could not seebecause of the distance, and which, not knowing Billy Byrne, they wouldnot have interpreted correctly; but the revolver they did understand,and at sight of it one of them threw his carbine to his shoulder. Hisfinger, however, never closed upon the trigger, for there came the soundof a shot from beyond Billy Byrne and the Mexican staggered forward,pitching over the edge of the porch to the ground.

  Billy turned his head in the direction from which the shot had come andsaw Eddie Shorter running toward him, a smoking six-shooter in his righthand.

  "Go back," commanded Byrne; "this is my funeral."

  "Not on your life," replied Eddie Shorter. "Those greasers don't take nowhite man off'n El Orobo, while I'm here. Get busy! They're comin'."

  And sure enough they were coming, and as they came their carbines poppedand the bullets whizzed about the heads of the two Americans. Grayson,too, had taken a hand upon the side of the Villistas. From the bunkhouseother men were running rapidly in the direction of the fight, attractedby the first shots.

  Billy and Eddie stood their ground, a few paces apart. Two more ofVilla's men went down. Grayson ran for cover. Then Billy Byrne droppedthe last of the Mexicans just as the men from the bunkhouse came pantingupon the scene. There were both Americans and Mexicans among them. Allwere armed and weapons were ready in their hands.

  They paused a short distance from the two men. Eddie's presence upon theside of the stranger saved Billy from instant death, for Eddie was wellliked by both his Mexican and American fellow-workers.

  "What's the fuss?" asked an American.

  Eddie told them, and when they learned that the boss's daughter had beenspirited away and that the ranch foreman was at the bottom of it theanger of the Americans rose to a dangerous pitch.

  "Where is he?" someone asked. Th
ey were gathered in a little cluster nowabout Billy Byrne and Shorter.

  "I saw him duck behind the office building," said Eddie.

  "Come on," said another. "We'll get him."

  "Someone get a rope." The men spoke in low, ordinary tones--theyappeared unexcited. Determination was the most apparent characteristicof the group. One of them ran back toward the bunkhouse for his rope.The others walked slowly in the direction of the rear of the officebuilding. Grayson was not there. The search proceeded. The Americanswere in advance. The Mexicans kept in a group by themselves a little inrear of the others--it was not their trouble. If the gringos wanted tolynch another gringo, well and good--that was the gringos' business.They would keep out of it, and they did.

  Down past the bunkhouse and the cookhouse to the stables the searchersmade their way. Grayson could not be found. In the stables one of themen made a discovery--the foreman's saddle had vanished. Out in thecorrals they went. One of the men laughed--the bars were down and thesaddle horses gone. Eddie Shorter presently pointed out across thepasture and the river to the skyline of the low bluffs beyond. Theothers looked. A horseman was just visible urging his mount upward tothe crest, the two stood in silhouette against the morning sky pink withthe new sun.

  "That's him," said Eddie.

  "Let him go," said Billy Byrne. "He won't never come back and he ain'tworth chasin'. Not while we got Miss Barbara to look after. My horseis down there with yours. I'm goin' down to get him. Will you come,Shorter? I may need help--I ain't much with a rope yet."

  He started off without waiting for a reply, and all the Americansfollowed. Together they circled the horses and drove them back to thecorral. When Billy had saddled and mounted he saw that the others haddone likewise.

  "We're goin' with you," said one of the men. "Miss Barbara b'longs tous."

  Billy nodded and moved off in the direction of the ranchhouse. Here hedismounted and with Eddie Shorter and Mr. Harding commenced circlingthe house in search of some manner of clue to the direction taken bythe abductors. It was not long before they came upon the spot where theIndians' horses had stood the night before. From there the trail ledplainly down toward the river. In a moment ten Americans were followingit, after Mr. Harding had supplied Billy Byrne with a carbine, anothersix-shooter, and ammunition.

  Through the river and the cut in the barbed-wire fence, then up the faceof the bluff and out across the low mesa beyond the trail led. For amile it was distinct, and then disappeared as though the riders hadseparated.

  "Well," said Billy, as the others drew around him for consultation,"they'd be goin' to the hills there. They was Pimans--Esteban's tribe.They got her up there in the hills somewheres. Let's split up an'search the hills for her. Whoever comes on 'em first'll have to dosome shootin' and the rest of us can close in an' help. We can go inpairs--then if one's killed the other can ride out an' lead the way backto where it happened."

  The men seemed satisfied with the plan and broke up into parties of two.Eddie Shorter paired off with Billy Byrne.

  "Spread out," said the latter to his companions. "Eddie an' I'll ridestraight ahead--the rest of you can fan out a few miles on either sideof us. S'long an' good luck," and he started off toward the hills, EddieShorter at his side.

  Back at the ranch the Mexican vaqueros lounged about, grumbling. With noforeman there was nothing to do except talk about their troubles. Theyhad not been paid since the looting of the bank at Cuivaca, for Mr.Harding had been unable to get any silver from elsewhere until a fewdays since. He now had assurances that it was on the way to him; butwhether or not it would reach El Orobo was a question.

  "Why should we stay here when we are not paid?" asked one of them.

  "Yes, why?" chorused several others.

  "There is nothing to do here," said another. "We will go to Cuivaca. I,for one, am tired of working for the gringos."

  This met with the unqualified approval of all, and a few momentslater the men had saddled their ponies and were galloping away in thedirection of sun-baked Cuivaca. They sang now, and were happy, for theywere as little boys playing hooky from school--not bad men; but ratherirresponsible children.

  Once in Cuivaca they swooped down upon the drinking-place, where, withwhat little money a few of them had left they proceeded to get drunk.

  Later in the day an old, dried-up Indian entered. He was hot and dustyfrom a long ride.

  "Hey, Jose!" cried one of the vaqueros from El Orobo Rancho; "you oldrascal, what are you doing here?"

  Jose looked around upon them. He knew them all--they represented theMexican contingent of the riders of El Orobo. Jose wondered what theywere all doing here in Cuivaca at one time. Even upon a pay day it neverhad been the rule of El Orobo to allow more than four men at a time tocome to town.

  "Oh, Jose come to buy coffee and tobacco," he replied. He looked aboutsearchingly. "Where are the others?" he asked, "--the gringos?"

  "They have ridden after Esteban," explained one of the vaqueros. "He hasrun off with Senorita Harding."

  Jose raised his eyebrows as though this was all news.

  "And Senor Grayson has gone with them?" he asked. "He was very fond ofthe senorita."

  "Senor Grayson has run away," went on the other speaker. "The othergringos wished to hang him, for it is said he has bribed Esteban to dothis thing."

  Again Jose raised his eyebrows. "Impossible!" he ejaculated. "And whothen guards the ranch?" he asked presently.

  "Senor Harding, two Mexican house servants, and a Chinaman," and thevaquero laughed.

  "I must be going," Jose announced after a moment. "It is a long ride foran old man from my poor home to Cuivaca, and back again."

  The vaqueros were paying no further attention to him, and the Indianpassed out and sought his pony; but when he had mounted and ridden fromtown he took a strange direction for one whose path lies to the east,since he turned his pony's head toward the northwest.

  Jose had ridden far that day, since Billy had left his humble hut. Hehad gone to the west to the little rancho of one of Pesita's adherentswho had dispatched a boy to carry word to the bandit that his CaptainByrne had escaped the Villistas, and then Jose had ridden into Cuivacaby a circuitous route which brought him up from the east side of thetown.

  Now he was riding once again for Pesita; but this time he would bearthe information himself. He found the chief in camp and after beggingtobacco and a cigarette paper the Indian finally reached the purpose ofhis visit.

  "Jose has just come from Cuivaca," he said, "and there he drank withall the Mexican vaqueros of El Orobo Rancho--ALL, my general, youunderstand. It seems that Esteban has carried off the beautiful senoritaof El Orobo Rancho, and the vaqueros tell Jose that ALL the Americanvaqueros have ridden in search of her--ALL, my general, you understand.In such times of danger it is odd that the gringos should leave El Orobothus unguarded. Only the rich Senor Harding, two house servants, and aChinaman remain."

  A man lay stretched upon his blankets in a tent next to that occupiedby Pesita. At the sound of the speaker's voice, low though it was, heraised his head and listened. He heard every word, and a scowl settledupon his brow. Barbara stolen! Mr Harding practically alone upon theranch! And Pesita in possession of this information!

  Bridge rose to his feet. He buckled his cartridge belt about his waistand picked up his carbine, then he crawled under the rear wall of histent and walked slowly off in the direction of the picket line where thehorses were tethered.

  "Ah, Senor Bridge," said a pleasant voice in his ear; "where to?"

  Bridge turned quickly to look into the smiling, evil face of Rozales.

  "Oh," he replied, "I'm going out to see if I can't find some shooting.It's awfully dull sitting around here doing nothing."

  "Si, senor," agreed Rozales; "I, too, find it so. Let us go together--Iknow where the shooting is best."

  "I don't doubt it," thought Bridge; "probably in the back;" but aloudhe said: "Certainly, that will be fine," for he guessed that Rozales hadbeen se
t to watch his movements and prevent his escape, and, perchance,to be the sole witness of some unhappy event which should carry SenorBridge to the arms of his fathers.

  Rozales called a soldier to saddle and bridle their horses and shortlyafter the two were riding abreast down the trail out of the hills. Whereit was necessary that they ride in single file Bridge was careful tosee that Rozales rode ahead, and the Mexican graciously permitted theAmerican to fall behind.

  If he was inspired by any other motive than simple espionage he wasevidently content to bide his time until chance gave him the opening hedesired, and it was equally evident that he felt as safe in front of theAmerican as behind him.

  At a point where a ravine down which they had ridden debauched upon amesa Rozales suggested that they ride to the north, which was not at allthe direction in which Bridge intended going. The American demurred.

  "But there is no shooting down in the valley," urged Rozales.

  "I think there will be," was Bridge's enigmatical reply, and then, witha sudden exclamation of surprise he pointed over Rozales' shoulder."What's that?" he cried in a voice tense with excitement.

  The Mexican turned his head quickly in the direction Bridge's indexfinger indicated.

  "I see nothing," said Rozales, after a moment.

  "You do now, though," replied Bridge, and as the Mexican's eyes returnedin the direction of his companion he was forced to admit that he did seesomething--the dismal, hollow eye of a six-shooter looking him straightin the face.

  "Senor Bridge!" exclaimed Rozales. "What are you doing? What do youmean?"

  "I mean," said Bridge, "that if you are at all solicitous of your healthyou'll climb down off that pony, not forgetting to keep your hands aboveyour head when you reach the ground. Now climb!"

  Rozales dismounted.

  "Turn your back toward me," commanded the American, and when the otherhad obeyed him, Bridge dismounted and removed the man's weapons from hisbelt. "Now you may go, Rozales," he said, "and should you ever have anAmerican in your power again remember that I spared your life when Imight easily have taken it--when it would have been infinitely safer forme to have done it."

  The Mexican made no reply, but the black scowl that clouded his faceboded ill for the next gringo who should be so unfortunate as to fallinto his hands. Slowly he wheeled about and started back up the trail inthe direction of the Pesita camp.

  "I'll be halfway to El Orobo," thought Bridge, "before he gets a chanceto tell Pesita what happened to him," and then he remounted and rode ondown into the valley, leading Rozales' horse behind him.

  It would never do, he knew, to turn the animal loose too soon, since hewould doubtless make his way back to camp, and in doing so would haveto pass Rozales who would catch him. Time was what Bridge wanted--to bewell on his way to Orobo before Pesita should learn of his escape.

  Bridge knew nothing of what had happened to Billy, for Pesita had seento it that the information was kept from the American. The latter had,nevertheless, been worrying not a little at the absence of his friendfor he knew that he had taken his liberty and his life in his hands inriding down to El Orobo among avowed enemies.

  Far to his rear Rozales plodded sullenly up the steep trail through themountains, revolving in his mind various exquisite tortures he should bedelighted to inflict upon the next gringo who came into his power.

 

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