Frontier Boys in Frisco

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"He's coming a long ways around to get his cruiser," remarked the lawyer
coolly.

"The other side is watched, and it ain't easy to pick up the right kind
of craft anyway, without payin' a ransom, and this old Dick wants to
drive a hard bargain, says it is a good cause and all that, but I ain't
got no interest in those Cuban niggers."

"I follow you," said the lawyer, "but that isn't what you wanted me to
help with."

He knew his client thoroughly.

"You're right it ain't," replied the captain with emphasis; "I made the
contract to carry the shooting irons and we are loaded ready to sail,
but the Senor's got a gal."

The lawyer looked keenly at his client.

"It's a case of kidnaping, then," remarked the lawyer with as much
unconcern as if referring to an attack of measles.

"Yer have the right idea, Mr. Reynold's," said the candid mariner; "the
gal's daddy sets a heap of store by her, and he'll pay something
handsome to git her back, more than he would for this steam yacht of
mine, twice over."

"Tell me how the land lies, Captain, then I'll give you my terms."

Captain Broome speaking in a low, growling voice, gave him the necessary
details, and then with his bushy eyebrows knitted together he watched
the other man with grim intentness. Mr. William H. Reynolds sat for some
time with his head thrown back and half-closed eyes, gazing upward at
the ceiling, and then he began to whistle softly with a slight hissing
sound.

"It's the devil in him getting up steam," mused Broome; "he sees his way
through all right."

Indeed he did, but he did not inform his valued client that he was well
acquainted with the agent of the Cuban insurgents, who had come West to
meet the Senor da Cordova, for he had no intention of belittling the
difficulty of the task assigned him.

"How much?" inquired Captain Broome, in a noncommittal voice. These two
wasted no time on formalities, they had been in too many transactions
for that. By way of reply, the lawyer held up five fingers. Immediately
the Yankee master put up three and a half by doubling his little finger,
but the attorney remained firm.

"You'll get ten thousand out of this, you old reprobate," he said
frankly, "and I take the risk. Take it or leave it, I've got some other
matters to attend to immediately."

The captain grunted, he hated to pay, especially without a long
bargaining, but he knew his friend well enough to realize that it was a
waste of valuable time, and that one might just as well try to bargain
with a graven image. Slowly he drew out a leather pouch from his
capacious pants' pocket and opening it placed--How many twenty dollar
gold pieces, Reader, to make five hundred dollars? Well, Tom, what is
it? "Fifteen." You Johnny? "Twenty-five." Quite right.

They made a brave sight piled up in the light upon the table, but they
did not stay in evidence very long for after noting each one carefully,
he put it in the black bag, until they were all properly shepherded.

"Would you like to have this business finished to-day, Captain?"
inquired the lawyer.

"You're right, I would," said Broome with emphasis.

"Make it a thousand, and I'll guarantee to do it," replied the lawyer.
The captain's jaw fell.

"It is worth it, for the risk is double," returned the lawyer.

"I haven't anything like it with me," declared the captain. "I'm no gold
mine."

"Give me your note then," said Reynolds, "payable in fifteen days."

"I tell you what I will do, Mr. Reynolds, I'll make it for three
hundred; and more I can't do."

"Agreed," said the lawyer.

"Have a drink on it," urged the captain, hospitably, and feeling fairly
well satisfied with his bargain.

"No time for that," replied the lawyer abruptly; "you'll be at the
castle not later than ten and I'll make my part of the contract good.
Tell those niggers of yours to dig in and row some going back."

The captain evidently gave them sound instructions, because they made
record time, cutting through the fog at a slashing gait.

CHAPTER XVI

AN ODD RESTAURANT

Let us now return to our friends, Captain James Darlington and Chief
Engineer John Berwick, of the good yacht, _Sea Eagle_, the latter now in
the bad hands of Pirate William Broome. We left them crouching in the
fog outside the car restaurant on the beach. Two men had come out into
the fog. The first a big sailor as was evident by his gait, as well as
his costume, and the man who followed in his wake was of a slinking
type, and may have been a beachcomber. Jim could not make up his mind
whether these two were members of the pirate crowd or not.

The two friends watched them until they merged into the darkness and
fog, going towards the water and not in the direction of the castle. For
one moment Jim got the idea that the smaller man meant mischief towards
the big sailor, but he did not attempt to follow the pair for there was
other fish for them to fry that night. After a minute's wait the
engineer made a move as if to go towards the door of the queer little
restaurant, but his comrade laid a restraining hand on his arm. Jim had
learned due caution from his past experience with the Indians and
treacherous border men, and for all he knew these two men might return
after a short time, and make trouble for them. Ten minutes passed in
perfect silence though the engineer began to feel extremely restive from
hunger. Finally Jim rose to his feet.

"I reckon we will board this car, Pardner," he determined, "if you
happen to have the fare."

"They've got the fare inside there," replied the engineer sententiously,
"that I want."

Jim laughed, and then taking another look through the window to assure
himself that no one else was inside, he opened the door and followed by
his friend went in. It was a quaint looking place, lighted by a big
ship's lamp in the center of the ceiling, that shed warmth as well as
light. It had been a really large and spacious car, and there was plenty
of room for the long, clean lunch counter, which was adorned with
several clusters of condiments, salt and pepper shakers, and a heavy
china sugar bowl. These surrounded a tall red ketchup bottle and a black
sauce bottle.

There were likewise two small tables with several stools around them. At
the far end of the car on either side of the heavily curtained portion,
were two stained glass windows, one blue, and the other red. Both had
the same design, that of a knight in full armor on a prancing horse, and
a long lance at half cock, as it were.

"Vell, poys, vat you vant, eh?" questioned the short, fat German, in his
white cap and apron, from behind the lunch counter. It was clear that he
was not favorably impressed with these new customers, who were muddy,
wet and bedraggled, from their long chase of the afternoon and evening.
But do not make a mistake; it was not their character, which Fritz
Scheff viewed askance; they might be cutthroats and villains of the
deepest dye, and it would not worry him any in the least. But could they
pay? that was the question.

John Berwick grasped the situation with sufficient clearness.

"What do we want, Old Sport?" he replied, airily; "everything you've got
on the bill of fare. Here's a bill for a beginner." And the engineer
threw a five dollar currency certificate on the clean wood counter.

The German's little, black eyes opened as wide as was possible, which
was not saying much; he was not used to such lavishness on the part of
customers. However, he was cautious, for such was his nature. He held up
the bill to the light and then gave it a slight tug. This nettled Jim,
who did not sympathize with his friend's extravagance at times.

"Donner and Blitzen mein freund," roared Jim, who used such language as
came to his hand; "you old counterfeit. Get busy, we're hungry. And,
another thing, you can stow that bill my friend gave you, but you've got
to give him back what's coming to him."

"Which will be mighty little," said Berwick humorously, "because my
appetite is growing some."

The proprietor's big red neck grew choleric under Jim's remark, but by a
quick transformation he swallowed his wrath, and became a smiling and
complacent host.

"Anydings you vants shentlemen is yours. Just give me de order."

He handed each of them a rather soiled menu in a frame and the two gaunt
travelers regarded the list with a moment's deep interest.

"A Hamburg steak to start with," said the engineer, "and three fried
eggs on the side not to mention some black coffee and hashed brown
potatoes."

"The same here, friend," remarked Jim, "only put me down for two eggs."

"Bless me! what a delicate appetite, James!" exclaimed Berwick.

"I'm looking to something else, John!" replied Jim.

"Wise lad," remarked the engineer, "but do you know, as I can't have my
dress suit on this auspicious occasion--"

"You mean suspicious," cut in Jim with a grin.

"Never mind that now," continued the engineer; "what I was going to say
was that a plain--"

"High neck," interrupted Jim.

"Any old neck wash would be truly acceptable," concluded the engineer.

The proprietor heard and heeded.

"Eh, Anna, come here," he cried in stentorian German. There was a gentle
shuffling sound and a creaking of a board from the direction of the
other car or room and a large figure appeared in the curtained doorway.

"What is it you want, my Fritz?" questioned the placid and housewifely
Anna, taking in the newcomers with a quiet gaze.

"The shentlemen of honorable wealth, Frau Scheff, would like to wash
their esteemed countenances," he explained with ironical deference.

"Ach! that is good," said Mrs. Scheff with a fat good-natured smile;
"trouble yourselves to come with me."

"By the time you shentlemans are washed and improved, the supper will be
ready," said the proprietor.

The engineer was greatly amused by this stout German couple and showed
it by a slight smile, but Jim who always had a native respect for decent
and kindly people no matter who they were, had no intention of joining
his friend in any humorous byplay in regard to the stout house frau.

She led them through the short passageway into the other room. One end
was curtained off for the bedroom, with snowy white curtains tied back
with pink ribbons.

Everything about the two little rooms was marvelously clean and neat.
There was a big round globe lamp on a black oak table, ornamented with
the quaint carvings of the Fatherland, on the standard. Nearby was a
capacious rocking chair where the good frau had been sitting, and her
knitting was on the table. On a cushion in front of the chair was a huge
gray striped cat, comfortably curled and sound asleep. Jim who loved
all animals could not resist stroking it and then gave its ears a twitch
which made his catship raise his big head and open his mouth in that
silent feline protest, which is so amusing.

"Ah, the Kaiser Fritz is a very spoiled cat. Is it not so liebchen?" and
she lifted him bodily from his comfortable cushion. But the Kaiser was
decidedly peeved by all this attention and showed it very plainly.

"Ach! you are a tiger! a French tiger! you deserve not the good name of
Fritz!" and with a temper as quick as her kindness, she threw him into
the chair.

"The Kaiser Fritz is a fine animal, Frau Scheff," said Jim pleasantly;
"I should like to own him."

"He eats as much as two kinder," said the frau with a sigh, "and he is
not so grateful. Now you two gentlemen make yourselves welcome. Here are
plenty towels."

Jim and the engineer thanked her, the former briefly, the latter with a
pleasing grace that he could use when he so wished. But it was to be
noted that while she surveyed John Berwick with a careful and
noncommittal eye, she regarded Jim with a simple kindness that fairly
beamed, which is not insinuating that the chief engineer of the _Sea
Eagle_ was a rascal but that he did not have the straightforward
sincerity characteristic of Jim.

There were indeed towels enough hanging on the rack by the washstand,
which with its drapings of white and blue was so dainty, that Jim
regarded it as much too fine for mere washing.

"Look at this blue and white china washbowl and pitcher, Jim," remarked
Berwick in a casual tone. "It is really beautiful. It is made in a town,
in southern Germany, where I once spent a couple of months."

"Seems to me you have been everywhere on this created earth, John, and
say," continued Jim, "see that mountain of a feather bed covered with
the snow of the coverlet. You know that they make those in southern
France where once I spent some months." The chief engineer grinned.

CHAPTER XVII

THE GOOD FRAU

After a thorough wash, the two compatriots felt very much refreshed, and
looked less like street urchins or sea urchins, and more like
themselves. Only one thing troubled the chief engineer, as he rubbed his
hand reflectively over his chin and face.

"I would feel quite respectable now if I only had a clean shave. You
know for a fact, Jim, that I can think much more clearly when my face is
smooth. But that is something which you don't have to bother about, Jim,
no reflection on your years, my lad," he concluded, with a smile.

"Better not be," replied Jim gruffly, coloring up, for be it known that
James was sensitive on the point of being young. Funny thing, boy
nature, anyway. John Berwick opened his eyes at Jim's tone, and then a
quizzical look came into his face. There was no denying that Berwick had
at times a vicious temper, but he was always good-natured where Jim was
concerned, and never resented the latter's occasional flare of temper,
which was greatly to his credit.

"You'll feel all right, Captain," he said gravely, "when you get your
emptiness lined with beefsteak."

"I'm a chump to flare up for nothing, Chief," deplored Jim; "next time I
do it give me a swift push into the alley." The engineer only shook his
head good-humoredly, while he was giving his brown mustache a final
twist before the glass; Jim was looking with interest at a photograph of
a lad upon the wall. A well set up boy, with a grave, straightforward
look.

"That is my Fritz," said a voice behind him. It was Frau Scheff. "He
has been away from home now two years. His father was very strict with
him and he love the sea, so he go away from home in some ship. He would
be about your age, my lad, but not so tall. Perhaps some time you see
him, and tell him, please, his mother break her heart to see him." Her
voice trembled, and for a moment she pressed her hands against her eyes.
Jim had a deep-seated aversion to any show of emotion, but this simple
yearning in a mother's voice affected him deeply. His eyes filled with
moisture for a moment.

"I promise you to keep your son in mind, Frau Scheff," he said in a
quiet voice, "and it may not be at all impossible that I should some
day meet him. Was there any certain mark by which I might recognize
him?"

"Fritz had a scar about an inch long over his left eye, which he got
when he was a little fellow," said the mother, "but ach! why do I make
you to feel sorry with my troubles. Come! by this time my husband has
your supper done." She regarded Jim with a benevolent smile and led the
way through the narrow passage into the little restaurant. The savory
smell of cooking greeted the hungry outcasts as they entered the car
restaurant.

"Shentlemans, your repast is served." He waved his hand towards one of
the little tables, which had on it a spotless white tablecloth, and the
necessary implements for attacking the grub.

"Ah! it looks very good, Herr Scheff," said John Berwick, who could be
very gracious when he wished. "Your name should be chef; you deserve it,
my friend."

The German made a short bow and his round face crinkled into a smile.

"It is enough that you are pleased, honorable sir," he said.

"Ach, Fritz!" exclaimed his wife, "why do you give these friends of
ourselves such knives and forks? I will get some of our own."

"Now don't you bother, Mrs. Scheff," said Jim; "these will do all right
for us."

"Ach! no! no!" she exclaimed, shaking her head; "they will not do. The
sailors bite the forks as though they eat them. I go get our own."

And she did. They were of heavy silver, with a quaint monogram on the
handles of the forks. No doubt heirlooms of several generations back.
Without more ado the two friends began with hearty appetites on the two
portions of steaks, the delicately browned potatoes, and the eggs.
Everything had a delicious taste, for, aside from their hunger, the meal
was excellently cooked.

"I will make the coffee, Fritz," said his wife, "and how would you like
some German pancake?"

"We would like nothing better," agreed the engineer.

"I'm good for any kind of a pancake," said Jim heartily, and he was not
exaggerating, either.

How good that coffee did smell, and it tasted equal to its aroma. As for
the big, flat, German pancakes, with their coating of powdered sugar and
side dishes of apple sauce, pleasantly tart with sliced lemon,--well,
Jim always had the tantalizing memory of them when in other days he was
furiously hungry, which latter he was destined to be on more than one
occasion. Jim, nevertheless, had not forgotten the business in hand,
even while eating.

"Herr Scheff, could you tell me about the people who live in the castle
upon the bluff above you?" he questioned.

A cold shadow came over the German's round face. It was evident that at
heart he was anything but a genial man given to much talk.

"I do not make my head ache about what I don't know," he replied; "my
business is to cook for whoever pays me. That's all I say."

"Oh! I see!" exclaimed Jim, somewhat taken aback. He noticed that Frau
Scheff seemed somewhat uneasy, but nevertheless she made no effort to
speak.

"Herr Scheff, how about that man with the gray suit, for whom you got a
lunch to-day, shortly after noon?" asked John Berwick.

For a moment the German's face took on a decided pallor, and then his
expression took on a blank, noncommittal look. There was no getting
behind that stolid wall. He shook his head heavily.

"I know nothing about that; maype you are a reporter, eh?"

John Berwick laughed heartily.

"You do me too much honor, Herr Scheff," he said; "I have not the gifts
of imagination or the requisite nerve for such a profession."

"Ach! but Fritz--" his wife began, but she stopped with a sigh at the
malevolent look her husband shot at her.

Not willing to make trouble for the kind-hearted German woman, Jim and
his friend refrained from making any further inquiries. In the course of
time they finished their meal, and prepared to leave, feeling like new
men and fully ready physically for anything that might be in store for
them. The proprietor had regained his surface good humor, and seemed
anxious to make the two strangers forget his abruptness.

As for his wife, she was her usual warm-hearted self, and there were
tears in her eyes when she said good-by to Jim. "Don't forget my little
Fritz," she urged, and Jim promised, and this seemed to give her much
comfort.

The two comrades then left the warm shelter of the curious little
restaurant. Outside it was misting heavily, but little did they mind it,
as they were warm and dry and well-fed. Indeed, they were now doubly
anxious to make an end of their strange adventure.

"Herr Scheff was a very uncommunicative old bird," remarked Jim, dryly,
as they trudged over the wet, heavy sand towards the cliffs.

"Just what was to be expected," replied John Berwick; "you might just as
well try to get water out of the Sahara as information out of Herr
Fritz. He would give the devil a meal as quick as he would a parson and
ask no questions for conscience' sake. You would never find out that he
had ever entertained either. That's business with that class, you know."

"Business be hanged, then!" exclaimed Jim hotly. "I bet anything that
the poor man we found murdered in the gulch up here did get a meal from
him."

"Certainly," replied the engineer coolly; "and what's more, he knows a
whole lot about the gang that infests that castle on the cliff."

"Well, the old clam can keep his information," remarked Jim. "I propose
to find out for myself what these rascals are up to. That's the only
way."

"You are right there, Jim," replied Berwick.

"We want to go a little careful now," remarked Jim, as they came to the
mouth of Dead Man's Gulch.

Noiselessly the two comrades climbed up the dark cleft, over the
slippery rocks, until Jim came to a halt.

"That man isn't here now, John," he said in a low voice.

"They've sneaked him off while we were below," remarked the engineer.
"It behooves us to be on the lookout."

Somehow, the disappearance of the body of the dead man seemed to give a
sense of danger that was everywhere present in the darkness, as if their
enemies, though elusive, were near at hand.

"Well, here we are," exclaimed Jim, with a breath of satisfaction, as
they reached the tall fence surrounding the castle on the bluff.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE RECONNOITER

"It seems to me that we are only where we were before," said the chief
engineer, in a low voice.

"We won't be there much longer," remarked Jim, with determination;
"follow your leader, and look out for the dog; he bites."

This time James Darlington took a new tack, crawling along in the
opposite direction from the big gate and keeping well hidden. Followed
by John Berwick, he went cautiously along for a distance of a hundred
yards, and then Jim halted, and with very good reason, for he had come
to the edge of the cliff, but not exactly to the end of the fence.

There was an iron obstruction in the way, that barred them from getting
further. It was a fan-like spread of sharp iron spikes, such as you
sometimes see in these days, separating the roofs of adjoining tenements
on the Island of Manhattan. It appeared an impassable obstacle and
indeed it was, as the powerful Jim and the agile engineer had to admit
after a careful investigation.

"No use impaling ourselves on that thing," said Berwick. "It's pretty
clear that the folks in there don't wish to be disturbed."

"More reason for disturbing 'em," asserted Jim briefly. "That Mexican is
inside and has my valued possessions. I intend to get them back."

"I admit the logic, go ahead."

It might have been possible for Jim to have scaled the high fence with
its pointed iron spikes, but it was not practicable for the shorter John
Berwick.

For a little while Jim sat on the ground thinking, trying to find some
way out of the difficulty.

"If we only had a rope," remarked the engineer; "we could make it."

"Yes," replied Jim, "and then use it to hang the greaser with. That is
what I call a beautiful thought."

"We haven't enough clothes to spare, to tear up, either," put in
Berwick.

"You are right, John," remarked Jim. "It is a little bit too damp and
foggy for that."

Jim began pacing up and down for a few minutes, then he reached some
decision.

"You stay here, John, for a few minutes," he said.

"I hate to stay alone here in the dark," remarked Berwick humorously.

Jim grinned, then he strode away along the cliff, and quickly
disappeared in the darkness. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed, and then
he appeared unexpectedly in front of the engineer.

"Hello, what have you got there?" inquired Berwick; "looks to me like
you were going to start a garden."

"I found these vines growing over some rocks back there," Jim explained;
"as we haven't any rope they are next best."

"Good boy! I would never have thought of that," said Berwick.

"We have used it before," said Jim; "when we were on the frontier."

"But will it hold?" remarked the engineer. "I'm no heavy weight, but I
am not a fairy either."

"Wind 'em together and they will do," replied Jim.

In a short time, he had got one end of the improvised rope over one of
the iron spikes, then he criss-crossed them and got the other end over
the next spike, making a very respectable ladder.

"You first, John," ordered Jim.

"All right, me lad, and if those hounds in the yard nab me, you must do
something to distract their attention."

"I'll attend to them," replied Jim confidently.

"Here goes, then," said the engineer, and with the liveliness of a cat
he was up and over, and Jim followed.

"Now," exclaimed the engineer, "we are in for it. What is our next
move?"

"Take in this rope," replied Jim practically; "maybe we can use it in
our business."

His friend patted James on the back to show his appreciation. Then they
together got most of the vine down, and Jim made a neat coil of it. Then
before they went on they waited, listening for any sound that might
indicate life of any kind about the castle, but it was absolutely dark
and silent.

In all probability the dogs were somewhere about, or at least one of
them would surely be on guard. Jim knew that the first thing to do was
to locate these hounds, for if they were to get on their trail the game
would be up, aside from the danger of being attacked by these ferocious
beasts, who were in reality as strong as a mountain lion and much more
courageous.

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