CHAPTER XX.
AT THE ESMERALDA MINE.
"If only I was certain that my boy and his friends were safe, Geisler,I wouldn't feel so much anxiety."
Mr. Merrill, an anxious look on his face, paced up and down the floorof the office of the Esmeralda Mine. It was the morning of the dayfollowing the dash for safety in Buck Bradley's car, and the mine ownerand his superintendent had been in anxious consultation sincebreakfast. In truth, they had enough to worry them. In the specieroom of the mine was stored more than $20,000 worth of dust, theproduct of the big stamp mill.
From what they had been able to ascertain, the insurrectos wereunusually active in the neighborhood. Open warning had been sent tothe American mine owners, including Mr. Merrill, to be prepared toyield up generously and freely, or have their property destroyed. Inaddition to this worry, the mine owner and his superintendent, togetherwith the three young "level bosses," had been practically cut off fromcommunication with the outside world for the past twenty-four hours.
A branch of the Chihuahua Northern tapped the mine, but no train hadpuffed its way up the steep grade for more than three days, and it wasuseless to try to use the wires, as they had been put out of commissionalmost at the beginning of the trouble in the province.
"If I had ever dreamed the trouble would assume such seriousproportions, the last thing I would have done would have been to allowthe professor or his young charges to journey to the Haunted Mesa,"continued the mine owner.
Geisler, a rotund German, with a wealth of flaxen hair and moustache,puffed at his china-bowled pipe before replying.
"Dese Megxicans is der teufel ven dey get started, ain'd idt?" heremarked. "For a veek, now, dere has not been a tap of vork done pyder mine, und nodt a sign uv der rabblescallions uv loafers vot vosemployed deere."
"That is a lesson to me in employing Mexican labor," declared Mr.Merrill emphatically. "If it isn't a saint's day carousal, it's arevolution, and if it isn't a revolution, it's a bad attack of aversionto work. I tell you, Geisler, the folks who are sympathizing withthese insurrectos don't know the people or the country."
"Dot is righd," rejoined Geisler, expelling a cloud of blue smoke. "Decountry iss all righd, but der peoples--ach!"
He spread his hands, as if in despair. As he did so, the door of thewooden building opened, giving a glimpse of the empty, idle shaft-mouthbeyond, and a young man of about twenty-two or so entered.
He was a mining student, employed as a level boss by Mr. Merrill. Hisemployer looked up as he entered.
"Well, Markley, any news?"
"Why, sir, that arrant rascal, Pedro, just rode by. I asked him if hecouldn't get the men back to work on Number Two, and he wouldn't hearof it. He says that the insurrectos are going to wipe out all theAmerican mines, and drive the gringoes out of the country."
"Oh, they are, are they?" questioned Mr. Merrill, a grim lookoverspreading his face. "Just let them try it on the Esmeralda, that'sall."
"You mean that you would oppose them, sir?"
"Oppose them! Holy smoke, man, you don't think I'd sit here with myhands folded and let a lot of rascally mestizos wreck my property, doyou?"
"I should remarg idt not," puffed Herr Geisler.
"But, sir, there are only five of us here. How long do you suppose wecould stick it out?"
"Till der lastd oldt cat be dead, py chiminy!" exploded the German."Herr Merrill, you are all righd. Young man, are you afraidt?"
"No," protested young Markley indignantly, "but----"
"Budt what, eh? Answer me dot, blease. Budt vot?"
The belligerent German advanced till his pudgy forefinger was shakingunder Markley's aristocratic nose.
"Well, they say, you know, that Madero isn't very gentle to hisprisoners, especially when they happen to be gringoes."
"There, there, Markley," said Mr. Merrill, with a tinge of impatience,"don't repeat all the old gossips' tales about Madero. Why, if onebelieved half of them, he would be endowed with hoofs and horns, not tomention a tail with a spike on the end. If either you or Redman orJennings wishes to leave the mine, you may. I'll write you a check forthe amount I owe you now."
"Well, you see, sir," began Markley, but Geisler interrupted himfuriously.
"Ach Himmel! Vot are you, a man or a Strassbourg pie? Donnervetter!Go! Raus! gedt oudt! Vamoose!"
"Sir," began Markley, turning to Mr. Merrill from this furious storm ofabuse.
But his employer had taken out his check-book and fountain pen, andseemed intent upon making out the pink slips. Markley, baffled, turnedwith a red face toward Geisler.
"It's all right for you to talk," he said in an aggrieved tone, "but weare all young fellows. We have our careers in front of us. We want tomake something of ourselves----"
"Ach!" broke out the German explosively, waving his pipe about angrily,"make deaders of yourselfs. Dot is vot you shouldt do. Go on. Dereare your pay checks. Take dem, und gedt oudt."
Glad enough to escape, Markley hastily thanked his employer, and,snatching up the pink slips, made for the door. Outside, Redman andJennings were waiting.
"Come on," said Jennings, as Markley waved the checks, "let's get outof here. Old Madero may be along at any minute, and they say he hangsyou up by the thumbs, and----"
Their voices died out, as they hurried off to pack their belongings,after which they made off for the nearest town, some ten miles away tothe southeast.
"Veil," began the explosive Teuton, as their voices died away, "dereiss dree vine specimens--nodt by no means."
"You can hardly blame them for looking out for their own interests,"rejoined Mr. Merrill. "It isn't everybody who, like you, would stickby his employer at the risk of his neck."
"You is more dan my employer, py chiminy, you voss mein friendt,"exclaimed Geisler. "I aindt forgot it dot time dat no vun vouldt gifme a chob pecos dey dink I been vun pig vool. Vot didt you do, den?You proved yourself anudder fooll py gifing me a chob. Dink you, den,I run from dis, my dearie-o? Oh, not by a Vestphalia ham! Here I am,und here I shtay shtuck, py chiminy!"
The mine owner gave his faithful super a grateful look, and thensnatched up his soft hat with a brisk movement.
"Come, Geisler," he said, "let us take a look around. Possibly, in theevent of an attack, there may be one or two places that will needstrengthening."
"Ach, Himmel! vot a mans," muttered the German to himself, as hefollowed his employer out. "I vork for him, und, py chiminy grickets,I vight for him too, alretty."
The stamp mill and main buildings of the mine, including the boiler andengine room, were surrounded by a stout fence of one-inch planking,perhaps ten feet in height. Frequent strikes and minor outbreaks amongthe Mexican miners had persuaded Mr. Merrill to follow the example ofmost of his fellow American mine owners in Mexico, and be prepared foremergencies. Facing toward the west, was a large gate in this"stockade," as it might almost be called. Surmounting this, was thebell, idle now, with which the miners were summoned to work. From thegate, which was swung open as Markley and his cronies had left it intheir retreat, could be seen a huddle of small adobe houses--the homesof the laborers--and beyond these, and deeper in the valley, lay thered-tiled roofs and green gardens of Santa Marta, the nearest town.
Men could be seen moving about the laborers' huts--in fact, there wasan air almost of expectant bustle about the place. Shielding his eyes,Mr. Merrill gazed down toward the little town. His keen vision hadcaught the glint of a firearm of some sort between the legs of a manseated outside one of the huts.
"These chaps must have advance information of some sort," he remarkedto Geisler. "That fellow yonder is cleaning up a rifle."
"Looks like it voss business alretty," remarked Geisler. "Himmel, Ivould gif vun dollar und ninety-eight cents, alretty, to see a troop ofregulars coming up der railroad tracks."
But the tracks lay empty and shining before them, without even afreight car backed upon a siding to suggest the activity
that, at thistime of the week, usually reigned about the mine.
"There isn't a regiment nearer than Rosario, at last reports," rejoinedMr. Merrill, "and no way of reaching them, now that the wires are cut.If only I dared leave the place, I'd ride to Rosario, but the instantwe vacated it, those yellow jackals down yonder would come swarming in."
"Dot is right," agreed Geisler, with a frown, "dey know, vorse luck,aboudt der amount of goldt vot is stored in der strong room. I bet youyour life, dey iss yust votching for a chance to make idt a addack pyder mine."
"That's my idea, too, Geisler, and---- Hullo, who's this coming?"
Border Boys Across the Frontier Page 20