Boy Ranchers Among the Indians; Or, Trailing the Yaquis

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER XVII

  AN ALARM

  While the boy ranchers and their friends from Diamond X had joinedforces with Uncle Sam's troopers and were warm on the trail of theYaquis, the squalid, degenerate and vicious band that had capturedRosemary and Floyd still retained possession of their captives. Thoughdisheartened and apprehensive, Rosemary and her brother had made uptheir minds to one thing--they would not be separated--come what might.

  For his sister's sake Floyd had firmly decided that if they attemptedto take Rosemary off by herself he would, at any cost, make an effortto follow, even if it resulted in his death at the hands of the Indians.

  As for Rosemary, she had but one thought--to remain near her brother atany cost. And as she had so far managed to conceal from the Yaquis thefact that she possessed her efficient automatic, and a supply ofammunition, she felt a sense of security that otherwise would not havebeen with her. She, too, resolved on desperate measures before shewould let them separate her and Floyd.

  So when Mike, as the one who carried out the orders of his villainouschief Paz, tried to take Rosemary off by herself, probably to break herspirit and induce her to send a letter to her friends asking thatransom money be forwarded--when Mike tried to do this he received oneof the surprises of his miserable life as he found himself looking intothe muzzle of Rosemary's gun.

  "Ugh!" grunted the Indian.

  "I don't know exactly what that means," said Rosemary coolly, as sheheld the gun with steady hand so that it "covered" Mike, "but mybrother and I are going to stay together. If you try to separate usI'll shoot as many of you as I can, and I'm a pretty good shot," sheadded grimly. "Then I'll shoot myself and him before I'll let you tryany of your tricks on us!"

  She spoke with such fierce earnestness that, though all of her wordsmay not have been intelligible to her captors, they at least understoodher intent.

  Paz gave a grunt, half of admiration and half of anger at thisunexpected change in his plans. Rosemary suddenly wheeled, facing him.She swung her weapon to cover the evil rascal.

  There was a spurt of flame, a puff of smoke and before the crack of thereport snapped out the dirty, greasy hat of Paz went spinning from hishead.

  A cry of dismay arose from the followers of the Yaqui chief and mingledwith his own grunt of rage. With a yell Mike reached for his gun, butwith a gesture his chief stopped him, saying something in their owntongue.

  It was, undoubtedly, a command to refrain from shooting down thecaptives, which was the evident intent of Mike. And of course thatcould easily have been done, for the Yaquis were well armed with riflesand revolvers they had stolen in their raid. They were not the bestshots in the world, but an infuriated band of them firing on a wearyboy and girl, would have made short work of their lives.

  "That wasn't a miss!" said Rosemary with a laugh, as she still held hergun to cover the leader. "I just wanted to shoot off your hat. Icould have aimed lower down if I had wanted to. That was just to showyou I know how to shoot!"

  "Ugh!" grunted Paz, and there was open admiration on his rascally face.He talked rapidly to Mike and some of the latter's companions who hadgathered around, and there was no further attempt to take Floyd awayfrom Rosemary.

  The latter, however, was on her guard, for she feared they would rushher, and try to take away her weapon, the unexpected display of which,as much as her cleverness in shooting away the hat of Paz, had held theIndians at bay for the necessary reaction to take place.

  "Yo' all right!" grunted Paz with another grin, while one of hisfollowers picked up the hat, looking curiously at the bullet holethrough it: "Yo' smart gal!"

  "Sure did have your nerve with you!" complimented Floyd, as he stoodbeside his sister. "I wish I had my gun!"

  "It's probably just as well you didn't have," she said with asmile--rather a wan and weary one it must be admitted.

  "Why?" demanded Floyd. "I'm as good a shot as you are."

  "I know it. But in matters of this kind ruffians will stand for morefrom a girl or woman than they would from a man. If you had drawn agun they probably would have shot you down without a moment'shesitation. But when I pulled mine it took them off their feet, so tospeak."

  "I wish it would take off a lot of their ugly heads, and their dirtybodies, too!" grunted Floyd. "Say, Rose, what are we going to do?This is a terrible pickle to be in."

  "It's better to be in a pickle, for that's a sort of preservative,Floyd," she joked, though how she had the heart to do this she herselfscarcely realized. "As long as they keep us in pickle there's somehope," she went on, with a tired little laugh. "But when they take usout--well, I'll be glad to have my gun," she added grimly.

  She still held the weapon, but it was evident that she was not going tobe obliged to use it again at once, either for intimidation or actualdefence. Paz waved to her to put it away, and she did, slipping itinto a pocket of her skirt.

  It was a pocket she had had made for just such a purpose as carrying agun where the ordinary observer would not see it. And if you have everhunted for a pocket in your mother's or sister's skirt, and given up indisgust, you will understand that the subterfuge of Rosemary was not assimple as at first appears. Of course she realized that if they hadbeen desperately bent on finding her weapon the Yaquis could have takenit from her. But they evidently did not dream that she had one. And,now, when she had given a demonstration of how quickly she could drawand use it, they would be a bit careful of how they approached her.

  Floyd's weapon, of course had been taken from him almost at once. Hehad been taken unawares or this might not have been the case. But itwas probably better, under the circumstances, that he had no gun. Or,as Rosemary had said, he might have rashly fired and the answeringshots from the Indians might have killed both of the captives.

  "Go on!" Paz said to Rosemary, indicating that she and her brothermight remain together.

  She had brought about what she intended.

  The captives were led farther in among the rocks to a sort of naturalcave, and there they were left, some food having been tossed down wherethey could reach it. It was the most primitive sort of a prison, sosimple, in fact, that after a while Floyd said:

  "What's to hinder us walking away from here, Rosemary? They aren'twatching us, and if we pack some of this grub--rotten as it is--maybewe can get away, and reach Diamond X ranch."

  "I'm afraid we'd have small chance of that," Rosemary answered wearily."What I'm in hopes of is that some one will come to the rescue. I'msure my note will bring us help."

  "Yes, but _when_?" asked Floyd, a bit fretfully. "It may be too late.I'm going to see if we can't get away. Stay here and I'll crawl up tothe top of the rock and see what the situation is."

  "I think you'll find it isn't as easy as it looks," said his sister.

  Nor was it. In the first place the climb up the jagged rocks waswearisome, but Floyd managed it. But when he was at the top, andlooked over to see if there was a trail of escape, he was unpleasantlysurprised by a piece of stone hitting him sharply on the head.

  At first he thought it was a fragment of rock dropping from above,perhaps dislodged by his exertions. But there was no rock over hishead. He was at the highest peak in that immediate vicinity.

  Then the lad's eyes roved about and he saw, sitting in a natural nicheof the stone, not far from him, a greasy Indian, who held his handpoised to toss another stone at Floyd.

  The Indian grinned and motioned to the captive to go back. Then Floydunderstood. This Indian was a sentry, placed on guard to prevent thecaptives leaving.

  "Well?" questioned Rosemary, as Floyd slid back to where she wasspreading out some blankets that had been tossed in with their food.

  "No go," was the discouraged answer. "They've got us hemmed in."

  "We'll just have to wait--that's all," said the girl. "I don't believethey'll do us any real harm now. They probably want money for lettingus go. I expect they'll be having us write notes, soon, to UncleHenry, asking him t
o forward ten thousand dollars, or some amount likethat."

  "Ten thousand dollars!" gasped Floyd.

  "Mexican!" laughed Rosemary with a joking spirit she did not altogetherfeel.

  Thus left to themselves, in a sort of natural prison of the rocks, aroofless cave, the captives spent the night, rolled in blankets. Itwas cool without a campfire, but none was allowed them. Sore, stiffand disheartened, Rosemary and Floyd arose soon after the sun was up,and made a pretense at breakfast. They were given some tin cups ofblack, bitter and muddy coffee, without sugar, but it was mostcomforting.

  "I never tasted anything better!" declared Floyd, draining the lastdrops.

  "Nor I," agreed his sister.

  There was a movement among the Indians, and it was evident that theywere about to take to the trail again. Rosemary and Floyd wondered howfar they would thus be led into the mountains. Surely if a demand forransom money was to be made it must be made soon.

  But then they did not know how far they were from the ranch of theiruncle, whom they had set out to visit. They might be going toward itor away from it. They had lost all sense of direction.

  Suddenly something seemed to take place down in the main camp of theIndians that indicated a new element in the grim adventure. There wereshouts and excited cries--cries of alarm, it was very evident.

  "Oh!" cried Rosemary with shining eyes. "Maybe it's a rescue partyafter us?"

  "I hope so!" shouted Floyd.

  A moment later Mike, his face showing unmistakable signs of fear, camerushing in, and by signs, and talk in his own tongue, of which Rosemaryand Floyd could understand a few words, he indicated that they were tofollow him.

  Meanwhile the confusion and alarm in the main body of the Yaquisincreased.

  What had happened?