CHAPTER XXII
LOST IN THE ADOBE CHURCH
Those up in the gallery could hear the two boys calling to theircompanion. There was no answer to their hails, and one by one the littleparty left the gallery.
"I tell you he is playing tricks on us," said Ned, after they hadsearched all over the place without finding any trace of Stacy.
"No; I don't agree with you," answered Tad. "Something has happened tohim."
"What shall we do?" asked Walter.
"Keep on looking. That is all we can do just now."
Once more they began their search, but with no better results thanbefore.
"Have you looked outside?" asked Miss Brayton.
"Yes; we looked out. No use in hunting there, for we can see all aroundthe place from the side door here," answered Tad. "He has gotten intosome place that we know nothing about. We've got to find it, that'sall."
"I would suggest that one of us ride to camp and get some of the men tocome out and help us," advised Walter.
"I'll ride home, and have father send some of his own men," suggestedMargaret.
"Yes; that would be best," agreed Miss Brayton.
"I wish you wouldn't," replied Tad. "It would alarm them, and ProfessorZepplin would be frightened. Ned, suppose you hustle for camp and tellMr. Stallings the fix we are in. We shall need some help, that's sure."
"All right. I'm off."
Big-foot Sanders and Curley Adams responded to the call on the run, theforeman being out with the herd at the time.
"I knew it," was Big-foot's first words as he rode up and threw himselffrom his pony where Tad was standing. "Now tell me all about it."
Tad did so, the cowman nodding his head vigorously as Tad told him allhe knew about Chunky's mysterious disappearance.
"Which way did he go?" asked Curley.
"That we do not know," answered Miss Brayton.
"His cry seemed to come from the back of the church somewhere," spoke upNed.
"We'll go in and look around, then," decided Big-foot, striding into thechurch. "Whew! smells pretty musty in here. What's that up there?"
"That's where we were eating our lunch when we heard Chunky call,"Walter informed him.
"How long since you had seen him--was he up there with you?"
"No; he had left us twenty minutes before we began eating lunch,"answered Ned.
"Humph!" grunted the cowman, gazing about him in perplexity. "Sure itisn't a trick?"
Tad shook his head.
"No. He was in trouble. I knew that from his tone."
"Then he must have fallen in some place," announced Big-foot. "Hecouldn't fall up, so there's no use looking anywhere but on the groundfloor here," he decided, wisely. "Anybody know of any holes that hemight drop into?"
"Not that I have seen," answered Ned. "The floor is as solid as stone."
"Well, that beats all. You boys scout around outside, while Curley and Iare looking things over in here. Besides, I want to be alone and thinkthis thing over."
"What do you make of it, Big-foot?" asked Curley Adams, after the othershad gone outside.
"I ain't making. When it comes to putting my wits against a spook place,I'm beyond roping distance. We'll look into these holes in the wallaround here, first," he said, referring to the niches and cell-likerooms that they saw leading off from the auditorium. "You make it yourbusiness to sound the floor. We may find some kind of trap door."
Curley went about bringing down the heels of his heavy boots on the hardfloor, but it all sounded solid enough. There was no belief in the mindof either that the lad could have disappeared in any of the places theyhad examined--that is, that he could have done so through any ordinaryaccident.
Like most cowboys, both Curley and Big-foot possessed a strong vein ofsuperstition in their natures. To them there was something uncanny inStacy Brown's mysterious and sudden disappearance.
"Here's a door, but it's closed," called Curley.
"That's so," agreed Big-foot, hurrying over to him. "The thing is sealedup with mortar. Hasn't been used in fifty cats' lives. Wonder what'sbehind it."
"Not the boy; that's certain."
"Nope. He didn't fall through there."
"Find any other doors open or closed?"
"Nary a one."
"Well, that seems to settle this part of the ranch; we've got to looksomewhere else. What bothers me is that we don't hear him call. If hewas anywhere near, and had his voice, he'd be yelling for help," decidedthe big cowboy.
"Don't think he's dead, do you?"
"I don't think at all. I don't know," answered Big-foot.
"It's my idea that the gopher isn't in here at all," announced Curley,with emphasis.
His companion eyed him thoughtfully.
"You're almost human at times, Curley. I reckon you've said the onlytrue words that's been spoke by us this afternoon. We look for thegopher and don't find him. You say he ain't here, and he isn't. Greathead! But that don't find him. The question is, where is he?"
"We'll have to look outside," answered Curley.
"Right you are. Come on."
But their search outside was as fruitless as had been their quest withinthe old adobe church. Not a trace of Stacy Brown did they find.
"Ned, I think you had better take the young ladies home," said Tadfinally.
"Want me to tell Professor Zepplin?"
"Not right away. You can tell him on the way out here. He will not havequite so long to worry, but I think he should know about it. The matteris serious. Where did you say Mr. Stallings was, Big-foot?"
"Out with the new herd. The cattle are pretty restless."
"Walt, you go in and tell the foreman the difficulty we are in. I'llwait here and go on with the search. If he can get away I wish he wouldcome."
"I'll tell him," answered Walter, hurrying away.
"I am sorry we have spoiled your afternoon, Miss Brayton," said Tad."It's too bad. But I'm afraid something serious has happened to ourfriend."
"Shall we see you again, Mr. Butler?"
"Of course. I don't know when the herd will start on. We certainly shallnot do so until we have found Stacy. Anyway, we will ride over some timeto-morrow and bid you all good-bye."
Assisting the young women into their saddles, Tad bade their friendsgood afternoon and turned sadly back to the church, while Ned Rectorrode back to the Ox Bow ranch with the young women.
"Well, what do you think?" demanded the lad, as he faced the big cowboy.
"I don't think. My thinker's all twisted out of shape," answeredBig-foot. "I can't tell you what to do. Wait till the boss gets here."
"I guess that will be best," replied Tad. "We have done all we know howto do."
The two men and the boy wandered about the church aimlessly, sayinglittle, but thinking a great deal, impatiently awaiting the arrival ofBob Stallings, to whom they now looked to show them the way out of theirdifficulty.
The foreman arrived, in the course of half an hour, with his pony on asharp run. They had heard him approach, and were outside waiting forhim.
"Well, this is a nice kettle of fish!" exclaimed Stallings, leaping tothe ground, tossing his reins to Curley Adams. "Tell me about it."
Once more Tad Butler related all the facts in his possession regardingStacy Brown's mysterious disappearance.
"Big-foot thinks it's spooks," added Tad.
"That's all bosh," exploded the foreman. "It's getting late in theafternoon, and I've no time to waste. I'll find him for you. What ailsyou, Big-foot? Getting weak in the knees?"
"Not as I knows of. This funny business is kinder getting on my nerves,though."
"Humph!" grunted the foreman, starting for the church in long strides."Nerves in a cowboy! Humph!"
They watched the tall figure of Stallings charging through the adobehouse, peering here and there, asking questions in short, snappysentences, going down on his knees in search of footprints. Finally herose from his task with a puzzled look in his eyes.
> "Tell me that story again," he demanded.
Tad did so.
The foreman went outside and surveyed the building from all sides.
"There's some secret room or passage in there somewhere. The gopher hasstumbled into it. We are going to discover the mystery of the church ofSan Miguel before we have done here--that is, we are if we're lucky," headded.
Bob Stallings' words were prophetic, though he did not know it. Thediscovery was to be one that would give the big foreman the surprise ofhis life, and that would affect all his after life as well.
The Pony Rider Boys in Texas; Or, The Veiled Riddle of the Plains Page 22