CHAPTER VI.
AN EXCITING QUEST.
In the meantime, the keenest anxiety prevailed in the camp. Afterawaiting breakfast for a long time, it was at last eaten and the tindishes scoured, without there being any sign of the missing boy.
“We must organize a search at once,” declared the professor. “Followingon the top of that warning last night, it begins to look ominous.”
“Maybe he has lost himself, and will find his way back before long,”suggested Ralph hopefully.
Coyote Pete gloomily shook his head.
“Jack Merrill ain’t that kind,” he said; “I tell yer, I don’t like thelooks of it.”
“Why not fire guns so that if he is in the vicinity he can hear them?”was Walt Phelps’ suggestion.
“Yep, and bring the whole hornets’ nest down on our ears, provided theyare anywhar near,” grunted Coyote Pete. “No younker, we will have tothink up a better way than that.”
“Would not the search party I suggested be the best plan?” put in theprofessor.
“Reckon it would,” agreed Coyote Pete; “what you kain’t find, lookfur,—as the flea said to ther monkey.”
But nobody laughed, as they usually did, at Pete’s quaintly phrasedobservations. There was too much anxiety felt by them all over Jack’sunexplained absence.
“Shall we take the horses?” inquired Walt.
“Sartin, sure,” was the cow-puncher’s rejoinder, “don’t want ter leave’em here for that letter writer and his pals to gobble up.”
So the stock was saddled and the pack burros loaded and “diamondhitched,” and the mournful and anxious little party got under way. Itso chanced that their way led them to the little hill where Jack hadstopped on the stolen horse and listened for sounds of the pursuit.Coyote’s sharp eyes at once spied the tracks, but naturally he couldmake nothing of them.
Suddenly Ralph Stetson, who had ridden a little in advance, gave astartled cry.
“Come here, all!” he shouted.
“What’s up now?” grunted Coyote Pete, spurring forward, followed by theothers.
“Why, here’s a horse,—a dead horse, shot through the head, lyinghere,” was the unexpected reply.
“Well, Mr. Coyote, what do you make of it?” asked the professor, afterPete had carefully surveyed the ground in the vicinity.
“Dunno what ter make uv it yit,” snorted Pete. “Looks like ther’ssomething back of this, as the cat said when she looked in the mirror,and—wow!”
“What is it?” they chorused as they pressed about the spot where Coyotewas pointing downward, an unusual expression of excitement on hisordinarily unemotional features.
“See that?” he demanded.
“Yes, I see several footsteps,” said the professor, “but what havethey——”
“Ter do with it? Everything. Them’s Jack Merrill’s footmarks or I losemy guess. And see here, this little wavy line,—a lariat’s draggedhere. Oh, the varmints!”
“How do you construe all this?” asked the professor.
“Easy enuff. Them rascals, whoever they be, hev roped Jack, hog-tiedhim and dragged him off.”
“O-oh!”
The exclamation, half a groan, burst from all their throats. Examiningthe ground further, it seemed likely that Coyote’s construction of thecase was a correct one. All of which goes to show how very far wrong atheory can go.
“Let’s hurry after them, whoever they are, and put up a fight,” criedRalph.
“Yes, we must rescue Jack,” echoed Walt Phelps.
“Now, hold your broncs, youngsters,” warned Coyote, “in the fust placewe dunno how many of them there be, and in the second we dunno jus’whar they air. Am I right?”
“Indeed, yes,” said the professor. “Boys, you should not be soimpetuous. Julius Caesar, when he——”
“Dunno the gent,” struck in Pete, “but my advice is to kind of huntaround this vicinity and maybe we’ll find some more clews. Go easy,now, boys, and make as little noise as possible.”
A few moments later the ashes of the camp fire near which Jack had sosuddenly alighted were found, but of the outlaws no trace remained. Asa matter of fact, Ramon’s shouts had attracted them, and as soon asthey had rescued him the camp had been abandoned in a hurry. It did notsuit Ramon just then to try conclusions with the Border Boys.
“Wall, here’s whar they camped,” muttered Coyote Pete, “we certainlyhad some close neighbors last night.”
The boys examined the camp site with interest, while the professorand Coyote Pete conversed earnestly apart. At the conclusion of theirconfab, Coyote Pete spoke.
“It’s up to us to go forward, boys,” he said. “Ain’t no use lingering’bout these diggin’s.”
“But mayn’t the bad men have turned back down the canyon?” asked Ralph.
Coyote shook his head.
“Think agin, son,” he admonished, “the floor of the gulch is too narrowfor ’em to hev got by us without our knowing it.”
“That’s so,” said Walt, while Ralph colored up a bit. He didn’t like tobe looked upon as a tenderfoot.
It was some time later that they reached the volcanic-looking stretchof country into the pitfalls of which Jack had fallen.
“Ugh! What a dreary place!” stammered Walt, a bit apprehensively.
Somehow they all felt the oppressive gloom in the same way. Itdepressed and made them silent. When they spoke at all it was inhushed tones, like folks use in church or a big museum. This is theeffect of most awe-inspiring scenery, be it beautiful and grand, ormerely gloomy and threatening.
“In past ages volcanic energy was at work here,” said the professor,gazing about with interest; “the formation of yonder cliffs tells aninteresting story to the scientist. I wish my geological hammer was notin the packs, and I could get some specimens of the rocks. They wouldbe excessively interesting.”
“Not half so interesting ter me as a peek at Jack Merrill,” gruntedPete. “I wish your science was capable of finding that lad for us,professor.”
“Indeed, I wish so, too,” sighed the professor, “but that is outsidethe realm of science. She can tell you of the past but is silent as tothe future.”
“I wonder if there are any volcanoes ’round about here now?” askedRalph, looking about rather apprehensively.
“No, indeed, the fires are long extinct,” declared the professor, “thisvalley was formed at a remote period when no doubt hot water geysersand fires spouted through the earth’s crust. But that will never occuragain. In fact——”
“Look! Look there!” shouted Walt, suddenly pointing off to one side ofthe valley.
“By Jee-hos-o-phat—smoke!” yelled Pete, fairly startled out of hisusual composure.
“A volcano!” cried Walt “Hadn’t we better be getting away from here?”
“This is most extraordinary,” exclaimed the man of science, “there isevery evidence here that the internal fires have been long extinctand yet, as if to confound us, smoke comes pouring from that fissureyonder.”
“Wall, my vote is that we git right out of hyar quick,” declared Pete,“volcanoes and Peter de Peyster never did agree.”
But the professor, filled with scientific ardor, was already spurringhis bony animal across the scarred and arid plain toward the smoke.
The others, watching him, saw him approach the fissure carefully anddismount. The next instant he uttered a yell that startled them all.
“Hez ther fireworks started?” asked Coyote anxiously.
The professor was waving his bony arms around like one of those woodenfigures that you see on barns. He was evidently in a state of greatexcitement.
“What’s that he’s shouting?” asked Walt. “Hark!”
“Boys! boys! I’ve found him—Jack!”
This was the cry that galvanized them all into action. Without seekingfor explanations, in fact, without a word, they spurred toward theprofessor’s side. They found him peering down into the fissure, theedge of which was co
ncealed by grass and ferns. Craning their necks,they, too, could spy a figure in the depths of the crevasse.
“Jack! Jack, old boy! Are you all right?” they cried anxiously.
“Bright and fair!” came up the cheery answer, “but almost dead. Ithought you’d never come. Got anything to eat?”
“Anything your little heart desires,” Walt assured him.
In the meantime Pete had been busy getting a lariat in trim to lowerto the beleaguered boy. Presently it was ready, and after much haulingand struggling, they got their companion once more to the surface. Jackreeled for an instant as he gained the brink, but Ralph’s arms caughthim. The next minute he had recovered his self-possession, however, andafter eating ravenously of such provisions as could be got togetherhastily, he related the story of the strange things that had happenedto him since leaving camp that morning.
“If I hadn’t thought of those matches in my pocket and of ignitinga fire of that dried grass, I doubt if I’d have been here now,” heconcluded.
“I think you are right,” said the professor gravely, “I am glad thatthat fire at least was not extinct.”
The Border Boys with the Mexican Rangers Page 6
