The Border Boys on the Trail

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER VI.

  TAKING UP THE TRAIL.

  The new arrival replied to Mr. Merrill's look of inquiry by a volubleflood of Spanish. When he paused for breath, the rancher, whounderstood the language perfectly, turned to the professor and hisyoung companions.

  "This man, if he is to be relied upon, has furnished us with a valuableclue," he said. "According to him the rustlers passed him headed forGrizzly Pass not more than an hour ago. If this is so, then we standa good chance of overtaking them. The ground there is rough, and, notexpecting pursuit, they will take it easy. In fact, this fellow saysthat when he saw them they were camping."

  "You think he is to be relied on?" asked the professor.

  "Well, that remains to be seen. He tells a straight enough story. Hesays he is a sheepman who has a few hundred head in the highlands nearthe ca?on. While camped in a small pass leading off the main ca?on,he overheard these fellows talking about the trick they played, anddecided to inform me at once. He sneaked quietly out of his camp,saddled a horse he had there, and rode hard till he arrived here."

  At this moment a fresh trampling of hoofs announced that Bud and hiscompanion had returned with the "remuda" horses, and soon after Budhimself entered the room.

  In leather chapareros, high-heeled riding-boots and jingling spurs, helooked every inch the cow-puncher as he handled his revolver grimly.

  "We're about ready when you are, boss," he said.

  "Oh, yes--all right, Wilson. But I've got something I want to tell you."

  Rapidly Mr. Merrill ran over the story of the Mexican sheep-herder.

  "What do you think of it?" he asked, as he concluded.

  "Wa'al, it _sounds_ all right," admitted Bud reluctantly, "but this yerfeller's a greaser, boss, and----"

  "Oh, I know, Wilson, but after all, what can happen to us? We will be astrong party, and we'll take him along with us. He says he's willing togo."

  "Of course, that makes it different," admitted Bud; "but my advicewould be to make him ride with a lariat round his neck, so that atthe first sign of treachery we can string him up with neatness anddispatch."

  "We can't do that," smiled Mr. Merrill, while Bud glared at theMexican, "but we can have him ride right with us, and then there willbe no danger of his playing us false."

  "You understand what will happen to you if you ain't on the level withus?" demanded Bud of the Mexican, placing his hands about his ownthroat with a ferocious and significant expression.

  "Si, se?or," nodded the Mexican.

  "All right, then. That being the case, you can't blame us if anythingcomes off that don't happen to be on your future schedule of events."

  Soon after this conversation the expedition started. Dawn was justbreaking as they clattered out from under the cottonwoods thatsurrounded the ranch house. They were a grim, determined-looking band.On each man's saddle he carried slung before him his rifle, and withthe exception of Ralph and the professor, every one of those ten riderswas a crack shot. Behind each cow-puncher's cantle was tied a roll ofblankets, and besides their lariats each saddle horn held suspendeda quart canteen full of water. Two pack animals, selected for theirspeed, carried a camping outfit and cooking utensils. Complete as wasthe organization, it had taken little more than half an hour to get itready for the start.

  "Hi-yi!" yelled Jack, bringing down his quirt over his pony's flanks."It's good to hit the trail and get some action."

  "Same here," rejoined Ralph, pressing up alongside of him.

  The two boys urged their ponies to an easy lope. As for some miles tocome there was no necessity for them to travel with the main bodyof the men, they kept it up till they were some distance ahead. Mr.Merrill had decided that there was no danger to be apprehended till themountains were actually reached, and his consent had been gained beforethe boys loped off alone.

  Suddenly another rider spurred into view, coming from the oppositedirection to the boys and the Merrill party.

  "Walt Phelps!" cried Jack with a glad shout.

  The other returned the greeting and soon learned the news from AguaCaliente.

  Soon the three boys were riding forward together. Walter Phelps, itappeared, had heard rumors that the rustlers had been abroad in thenight, and had risen early and saddled for a ride to the Merrill ranch.He was much concerned when he learned of the rancher's loss, andvolunteered to join the party.

  To this Mr. Merrill entered no objection, and the three boys rode sideby side all the morning. The noonday camp was made in a small arroyoimmediately below a frowning spur of the Hachetas. The foothills hadbeen growing more and more rugged as the advance was made, and nowthe party might fairly be said to be in the mountains themselves. Byskirting two more spurs they would be in Grizzly Pass in less than anhour. The character of the scenery was gloomy and grand in the extreme.The rugged and mysterious mountains, clothed darkly, almost to theirsummits, with scrub-oak, fir and pi?on trees, seemed to Ralph topromise all kinds of adventure.

  The noonday meal was a hasty one. As soon as it was dispatched theparty pressed on without pausing for further rest. The road now grewso rough that the trail of the stolen horses, which had at first beenplain and clear, could no longer be seen. The Mexican guide, closelyguarded by Bud Wilson and a cowboy named Coyote Pete, rode in front.Close behind came Mr. Merrill, the three boys and the professor, and intheir rear followed the half-dozen cowboys who formed the remainder ofthe expedition.

  "Are we getting near the place now, Jose?" asked Mr. Merrill,addressing their guide by the name he had given, about the middle ofthe afternoon.

  "Si, se?or," rejoined the guide, who soon after directed the cavalcadetoward the mouth of the pass through which he said the stolen horseshad been driven.

  If the mountains had been gloomy and sinister to the view while ridingalong the base of them, the northern entrance to Grizzly Pass itselfthrew a damper over the spirit of even Coyote Pete, who had hithertolarked about and displayed a great fund of high spirits. The dark wallof the ca?on rose perpendicularly to a height of more than a hundredfeet on the right side of the rough trail. At the other hand was a deepand dark abyss at the bottom of which a hidden river roared. Beyond theformidable pit reared another frowning rampart of sheer rock. Deep downcould be heard the murmuring of water.

  "That's the overflow from the big dam," explained Walter Phelps,pointing over into the sonorous depths.

  "The dam is up in this direction, then?" inquired Ralph.

  "Yes, it is located in a small ca?on, off to the right of the pass.I'll show you the place when we reach it."

  For some time they rode on without a word. The deep gloom andoppressive silence was not encouraging to conversation. The sound of astone dislodged by a pony's hoof in that dismal place caused several ofthe party to give a nervous start more than once.

  Suddenly the right-hand wall of the ca?on opened out--as they roundeda sharp promontory of rock--and another deep chasm cut abruptly intoGrizzly Pass almost at right angles. The deep rift which this causedacross the trail had been bridged by a span of rough logs which crossedthe intersecting ca?on at a height of fully three hundred feet. A sceneof wilder and more impressive grandeur than the ca?on presented at thepoint they had now reached not one of the party had ever beheld. Evena whisper went echoing and reverberating among the gloomy rocks instartling contrast to the brooding silence of the spot.

  The frowning black walls, the melancholy-looking trees clinging to thealmost perpendicular walls, the bottomless chasm, and the deep dusk oflate afternoon, all combined to make it the most oppressive scene intowhich any of the boys had ever penetrated.

  They had reached the bridge and the feet of the Mexican guide's horsewere upon it, when from behind them there came a sudden startling sound.

  The loud report of a rifle, followed by another and another, re-echoedbehind them seemingly high up among the rocks.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! came the explosions.

  Instantly, Mr. Merrill and Bud wheeled their horses sharply and facedround
toward the danger. At the same instant Coyote Pete set up a yell:

  "Buncoed, by ginger!"

  He pointed ahead as he dashed across the bridge in pursuit of theirtreacherous guide, who was galloping off up the ca?on at top speed. Hehad taken advantage of the confusion to escape. Without an instant'sthought as to what they were doing, the three boys pressed spursto their animals and thundered across the flimsy structure afterthe cow-puncher. The professor's horse became unmanageable in theexcitement. The creature gave one tremendous plunge and with theunhappy scientist half on and half off its back, dashed across thebridge after the others.

  In the meantime, Mr. Merrill and the cow-punchers had galloped back towhere the firing still kept up. They all feared that they had been ledinto an ambush, and that the attack was from the rear.

  "That yellow-skinned varmint betrayed us, after all," ground out BudWilson, as they dashed back. "Those shots were meant for us, and camefrom Black Ramon's men."

  "Yes, we were wrong to trust him," rejoined Mr. Merrill, "but now we'vebeen led into a trap, we've got to fight out of it the best way we can."

  "You bet we will, boss," was Bud Wilson's rejoinder.

  The firing on the hillside had now ceased, and the little cavalcadecame to a halt.

  "Not a soul to be seen," exclaimed Mr. Merrill.

  "Well, that's funny," commented Bud. "This is where the firing was, forsure."

  "Yep, right up above there," rejoined another cowboy, Sam Ellis,pointing upward on the hillside.

  "What do you make of it, boss?" was Bud's next query.

  "I don't know what to think," rejoined Mr. Merrill. "Perhaps we weremistaken, and the firing we heard came from hunters up on the hillside."

  "Hunters! Not much chance of that," said Bud grimly. "Hunters who madeall that racket would soon scare all the game in the country away. No,boss, you'll have to guess again. By _Jee_-hosophat!"

  Slinking through the underbrush far above them, Bud's keen eyes haddiscovered the furtive form of a man who by his gay sash and high-conedhat seemed to be a Mexican. To think, with Bud, was to act. His riflejerked up to his shoulder as if automatically. As the weapon crackedsharply the man on the hillside gave a loud scream. Throwing his handshelplessly above his head, the next instant he came plunging andcrashing downward through the brush.

  "Got him!" gritted out Bud, grimly blowing through the barrel of hisrifle to clear the smoke.

  "Yip-ee!" yelled the cow-punchers at the successful shot.

  Mr. Merrill looked grave.

  "I didn't want any bloodshed, Bud," he said. "The boys--great heavens!where are they?"

  He had wheeled suddenly and discovered that they were missing.

  "Yes, and where's Pete, and where's the professor?" chimed in Bud.

  Alarm showed on every countenance.

  In the excitement, the absence of the members of the party who hadspurred onward over the bridge had not been noticed. But now blanklooks were exchanged. If they had galloped on--as there seemed to beno doubt they must have--by that time they were probably in seriousstraits.

  "Wait till I get that varmint, and then I'll be with you," cried Bud,swinging off his pony.

  The cow-puncher plunged up the hillside a few feet and picked up theMexican, who had rolled down the steep incline to within a shortdistance of the trail.

  "Is he dead?" asked Mr. Merrill anxiously, for the Mexican showed nosign of life.

  "Not dead, but pretty near it," Bud rapidly diagnosed, ripping open theMexican's shirt. "The bullet went right neighborly to his heart."

  With surprising strength for one of his wiry build, Bud picked up andslung the wounded man over the saddle before him with a grim idea inhis head that at some future time the fellow might be needed.

  "Now then, boys!" cried Mr. Merrill, "those others may be in a badpickle by this time. It may have been the purpose of this trap to getthem over the bridge. It's up to us to get them out of it. I knowyou'll do all that lies in your power to help."

  "You bet we will, boss," spoke up Ellis.

  "Yip-yip-y-ee-ee!"

  The cow-puncher's wild yell came from the bronzed throats with a will.The next instant the little cavalcade was off, clattering up the trailtoward the bridge.

  They swept rapidly round the small bluff of rock which had hidden thebridge from them while they had been investigating the mysteriousshots. As the trail came full in view, a groan of disappointment burstfrom them.

  The pass beyond the bridge was empty of life.

  Of their friends there was not a trace.

  A terrible feeling that the worst had happened filled every heart.

  "Come on, boys, we'll get 'em if we have to go to Mexico City for 'em,"yelled Bud defiantly. "Wow!"

  "That's the stuff--wow!" yelled the others.

  With his exultant cry still in his throat, and his arm still waving,Bud drove in his spurs. He was about to dash upon the bridge, whensuddenly the structure heaved upward before his eyes and the wholeworld seemed to turn to red flame. A fiery wind singed his face.

  There was a roar that filled the air, the sky--everything. The earthrocked and breathed hotly under the cow-pony's feet. Bud felt hisbroncho suddenly fall from under him and himself dropping like a stoneinto space. Desperately he clutched, grasped something solid, and drewhimself up. Then, everything went out from his senses and the wholeworld grew dark.