CHAPTER XII.
MADERO'S FLYING COLUMN.
As they stood there, still undecided as to which direction to take,Jack's keen eyes detected, above a clump of trees some distance downthe road to the west, a cloud of yellow dust rising. Evidentlysomebody was coming their way. The question was, who was it?
It might be some one of whom they could inquire the direction to theEsmeralda mine--for Jack had determined to seek out his father, knowingthe mine could not be very far distant. Again it might be a band ofinsurrectos, in which case they would have jumped out of the frying paninto the fire with a vengeance.
"Shall we ride forward?" asked Walt, as Jack's lips tightened in deepthought.
The other boy pushed back his sombrero. Jack Merrill was only a lad,after all, and he found himself suddenly called upon to answer aquestion which might have stumped a grown man. The question, however,was decided for him, and by a means so utterly unexpected that it camenear jolting the Border Boys out of their composure; for Jack, as theyhad ridden up from the river, had admonished his companions to keepcool minds and wits and stiff upper lips whatever happened. They weregoing into a country in which, from what they had been able to gather,the insurrectos were numerically and strategically strong. Their onlysafety, the lad argued with a wisdom beyond his years, was in facingemergencies as they came, without betraying by outward signs whateverof inward perturbation they might feel.
"I think we had better ride eastward, till we come to some village ortown," Jack was beginning, in response to Walt's question, when a voicefrom behind suddenly hailed them in unmistakably American accents.
"Ah, here you are, gentlemen. We've been expecting you."
The boys wheeled to find that a horseman stood beside them. He hadridden almost noiselessly over the soft grass, which accounted fortheir not having heard his approach. Jack took in the new arrival'sfigure in a quick, comprehensive glance.
The man who now faced them was a stalwart-looking chap of about thirty.His face was bronzed and his eyes keen. The face of one who has livedmuch out of doors. His manner seemed frank and open--even hearty--butany one skilled in reading faces would have noted in the ratherreceding chin and the eyes set close together that, in spite of hisapparent heartiness, the newcomer was a man of limited reliability.The sort of chap, in short, who, while fearless up to a certain pointand adventurous to a degree, would yet in an extremity look out for"Number One."
As for his dress, it was much the same as the boys'. Sombrero, leatherchaps well worn, blue shirt, and red neck handkerchief. Jack's keeneyes noted, too, that the pommel of his saddle bore some recent bulletscars, and that in two bearskin holsters reposed the formidable-lookingbutts of two heavy-caliber revolvers. The war-like note was furtherenhanced by the fact that across his saddle horn the new arrivalcarried a Remington rifle.
The boys' position was now an extraordinary one. Advancing toward themdown the road, was, what they could now perceive to be, a considerablebody of horsemen. As if this were not enough to raise a question ofwhether it was better to fly or remain where they were, here was thistotal stranger, perhaps an American, too, hailing them as if he knewthem, or, at least, had expected to meet them there. Jack's mind wasmade up in a flash, but, even in the brief instant he hesitated, thestranger's keen, close-set eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"I'm not mistaken, am I? You expected to meet me here?"
"Yes, yes, of course," responded Jack quickly, and in as easy a tone ashe could command; "I hope we're not late?"
"No; there comes Madero's flying column now. You couldn't have keptthe appointment better if you had arranged to meet us at some spot inNew York."
"I'm glad we're on time," said Jack, not knowing exactly what else tosay.
The lad was thunderstruck, as well he might be, by the turn events weretaking. He wished fervently, however, that they knew whom they wereexpected to be and why their coming had been awaited with sucheagerness.
"I say, you know," rattled on the other, who seemed to be a pleasantnatured enough chap, "that trip of yours through that hole in theground has mussed you up a bit."
"It certainly has," agreed Jack, more and more mystified; "it's apretty rough voyage."
"That's what, and going through that blamed trap in the Mesa, like acomedian in an extravaganza, isn't the least unpleasant part of it. Itwas a pretty slick trick of Ramon's to find that out, although, Iguess, some old Indian gave him the tip."
"It's a great scheme," put in Walt Phelps, finding his tongue at last.
"You chaps are a good deal younger than I expected to find you,"rattled on the stranger, "but I suppose you've seen lots of service."
"Yes, lots of it," put in Ralph, throwing some fervor into his tone.He felt that they had indeed, in the last few hours, seen serviceenough for a lifetime. Jack inwardly rejoiced as the others foundtheir tongues. He had dreaded that the suddenness of the emergencymight have proved too much for them. Both lads were rising to itgallantly, however. Now, if only he could find out who on earth theywere supposed to be, they might yet escape from the predicament intowhich they had fallen.
"Now let's introduce ourselves," went on their new acquaintance,evidently not the least bit suspicious now. "My name's Bob Harding.Which of you chaps is Con Divver?"
"Right here," said Jack, motioning to Walt.
"And Jim Hickey and Ted Rafter?"
"I'm Jim and here is Ted," responded Jack, his heart beating like atrip hammer. It was a daring game they were playing.
"That's good. Now we all know each other. I think that Americansenlisted in this sort of service should be on good terms, don't you?"
"I certainly do," rejoined Jack warmly.
"Fine! I'll bet we'll make good messmates. And now here comes Maderohimself. If you fellows will come with me, I'll introduce you in form.Do you 'spiggoty'?"
"Do we what?" asked Jack wonderingly.
"Spiggoty. Talk this greaser lingo?"
"Not very well, I'm afraid. Does the general talk English?"
"Well. He's a good fellow, too. You'll find out."
Thus rattling on, Bob Harding escorted the lads toward the van of theadvancing horsemen. There were about a hundred in the troop, whichHarding had referred to as a "Flying Column," and, although thehorsemen were all apparently well armed, their appearance was raggedand wild in the extreme. They had evidently seen some hard fighting.Here and there could be seen men with bandaged heads or limbs, whiletheir high conical-crowned hats were in some cases drilled, likebeehives, with bullet holes. In color, the insurrecto leader'sfollowers ranged from a delicate cream to a dark, reddish-brown, almostthe coppery hue of a red Indian. In all, they formed as ferocious andformidable-looking a troop of horsemen as the Border Boys had ever seteyes on.
Madero himself, a rather sad-faced man of past middle age, rode inadvance, surrounded by several officers, the latter having red flannelchevrons attached to their buckskin coats by safety pins. The famousinsurrecto leader raised his hat with Mexican courtesy as the newcomersapproached. Bob Harding drew himself up in his saddle and gave amilitary salute which the general stiffly returned. The boys, takingtheir cue from their new acquaintance, followed his example.
"I am afraid that your first experience with the insurrectos was arough one, senores," said the general, with one of his sad smiles,using very fair English.
"No rougher than we must expect," rejoined Jack crisply. The lad bynow had begun to have an inkling of the situation. Evidently BobHarding was a soldier of fortune fighting with the insurrectos againstthe troops of Diaz, while they themselves were supposed to be more ofthe same brand. Evidently they had been expected by Ramon'ssubterranean river, and in taking the boat they must have forestalledthe real Con Divver, Jim Hickey, and Ted Rafter. Jack caught himselfwondering how long it would take the latter to ride over the mountainsand discover the imposture.
"We are on our way to our bivouac farther on, gentlemen," said thegeneral, with a wave of his ha
nd, as if to dismiss them. "CaptainHarding will introduce you to your brother officers and later on I willassign you to duty."
The boys saluted once more, as did Bob Harding, and, still followingthe young soldier of fortune, they rode toward the rear of the column.The brown-skinned soldiers cast many glances out of their wild eyes atthem as they loped back, evidently wondering at the youth of Madero'snew recruits from across the border.
The boys found no opportunity to exchange conversation as they rodealong. Bob Harding was far too busy introducing them to brotherofficers to permit of this. From remarks addressed to them, which theyanswered carefully in a general way, the boys soon learned that thethree soldiers of fortune they were impersonating had been redoubtablewarriors in several revolutionary battles in South America. Thus itcame about that Jack and his chums were speedily far more prominentpersonalities than they cared about becoming. The officers of Madero'scommand they found to be mostly small planters and ranch owners,inflamed with bitterness at the freedom with which great grants of landhad been made to Americans by Diaz.
Bob Harding was not backward in telling them his history, as they rodealong. He had been expelled from West Point for a hazing prank, andsince that time had "knocked about the world a bit," as he expressedit. He was frank in confessing that he was with Madero's command forthe "fun there was in it."
"I don't see much fun in injuring American interests and practicallywarring on your own people," burst out Jack, before he knew what he wassaying.
Harding whipped around in his saddle like a flash.
"Say, Jim Hickey," he snapped, "those are funny sentiments coming fromyou. You didn't feel that way during your famous campaign inVenezuela, did you?"
"Well, it wasn't so near home, you see," rather lamely explained Jack,wishing that he had bitten his tongue out before he had made such abreak.
But Bob Harding fortunately was not of an analytical disposition, andhe was soon rattling on again, relating to the boys, with great glee,the manner in which the insurrectos were getting all the arms theywanted by Black Ramon's underground route.
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