Frontier Boys in Frisco
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"She is here? Then I'm ready," rejoined Berwick, "but let's get a weapon
or two before we start. We may need them."
Jim had now regained the use of his stiffened muscles, and together the
two comrades went to the end of the long room.
"This is yours, Jim," he said, as he stooped and picked up the weapon
which the Mexican had dropped.
"Sure it is," replied James. "My friend, Manuel, was about to hand it to
me."
"It's poisoned, look out for it," said the engineer, as he handed the
blade to him gingerly.
"Here's a revolver," cried Jim, "that one of the gents dropped in his
hurry. Shy only one cartridge, too," he concluded, after a hasty
examination.
Thus equipped, they started on their quest, and though very inadequately
armed they both felt heartened by the presence of the other. It is a
desolate business, facing danger alone with no one to back you up, or
with whom you can take counsel. True comradeship is one of the best
things in the world.
The two friends move quickly across the floor, but, by comparison with
the danger that is approaching, they seem merely to crawl. You long to
shout a warning to them, do anything to urge them on. They reach the
door of the banquet hall, and then they are quick to act, and with good
reason.
"What durned son of thunder broke that thar glass?" There was no doubt
whose voice that was. It belonged to the redoubtable Captain Broome, and
to no other. It was his stopping to look at the broken glass that gave
the two comrades their chance.
"Busted in'ard," he commented shrewdly, and then his gray, red-rimmed
eye, with its gleam of steel, caught sight of Jim and the engineer, as
they came through the door of the banquet hall. With a roar of wrath he
was inside, followed by six of his sailors; then his humor changed as he
saw Jim looking down from the head of the stairs.
"Very good of you, Mr. Darlington, to visit me in my humble home; sorry
I wasn't here to welcome you," he remarked suavely.
"Oh, I've made myself quite at home, Captain," replied Jim. "Nice place
here; wouldn't you like to trade it for my fine sea-going yacht in the
harbor?"
The captain grew red in the face at this piece of persiflage, and under
the stress of excitement he swallowed his quid of tobacco and likewise
his wrath, at Jim's coolness.
"Waal, son, that's extra kind of you, ain't it, boys?" and he looked
over the hard beaten crew at his back.
A loud guffaw of derision greeted this remark, and it was Jim's turn to
feel like swallowing something, only it was not a quid of tobacco, for
that was a foreign substance he never indulged in, but he made another
bold move by way of reply.
"Well, Captain, as you won't consider a dicker with me, I've got a
friend with me who represents the United States government. Perhaps he
will buy your chalet here by the sea."
John Berwick, who had been standing in the shadow back of Jim, gave a
grunt of surprise at the audacity of this move, but he was game, and
stepped quietly into the limelight. Captain Broome stood for a moment in
open-jawed surprise, and then he dropped his byplay of grim politeness
with startling suddenness. A shot rang out, and a puff of smoke drifted
across the hall. The bullet zipped close to John Berwick's head.
"Don't fire yet," warned Jim; "come quick."
He led the way swiftly down the hall, determined to make one last effort
to save the senorita, though it would have been easy enough for him to
have saved himself and his comrade by dashing into the library, barring
the door, and climbing down by the way which he had come up, but to
Jim's credit, be it said, the thought of such escape never crossed his
mind.
As they ran, Jim had the presence of mind to swerve for a second and
grab the hound which he had killed a short time before and drag it out
so that it lay crossways of the hall; then on they dashed, while the
lumbering sailors, better for climbing masts than for sprinting, came
awkwardly on their trail.
The pursuers had only started on the level of the hall when a volley of
six shots flashed in sudden flame in the direction in which Jim and his
friend were running. Two came unpleasantly near, but this only added a
zest to the race, and Jim laughed with a snort of disdain.
"You fellows shoot like Chinamen," he yelled in derision, which remark
reached the ears of Captain Broome and his gang with forcible
distinctness. It served to blind them with fury, and the next moment the
captain fell forward over the dead hound, and three of his gallant
sailors sprawled over him, for which piece of awkwardness they were
berated and kicked and cuffed by their irate employer.
"What dumb fool left that hound there!" he yelled when he saw the
obstruction by the light of a full lantern that one of his men lit.
"He's been pizened."
"Cut in the neck, Cap'n, that's what killed the beastie."
It was only too true, as the old pirate saw, and he went into a fit of
rage that left him inarticulate; but from the way he shook both gnarled
fists in the direction in which Jim had fled, it was clear that he knew
who was responsible for the death of his hound, and who had placed it
where it was. With a sudden sense of superstition his memory went back
to the fate of his great gorilla of the cavern that once had guarded his
treasure in a cave in one of the islands off the coast of California. It
was this same big, humorous, blond-headed boy, who had several times
outwitted and beaten him, though not always, for the hard-bitten old
salt horse had now gotten his yacht back from Jim's grip, and, through
one of his agents, had a few days ago relieved him of his treasure. Now,
in spite of daring and long-headedness, the captain seemed likely to
defeat the youth's present intention of freeing the Senorita da Cordova
from his cold, calculating and cruel grip.
At least it was not certain that James Darlington was to win her
release; however, he had before fought against odds quite as desperate
and won. We shall see. However, there was no question as to the bitter
chagrin of Captain Bill Broome as he took up the broken pursuit.
CHAPTER XXV
IN THE CELL
James did not stop to gloat over the momentary holdup of his enemy, but
followed by his comrade, he sped around the turn of the hall, then up to
the second story to the narrow winding stairway, winding between stone
walls, towards the cell where the senorita was under guard of the tall,
red-headed Amazon.
As he reached the landing a bitter surprise awaited him. The door of the
room was wide open. Not a soul was there. The bird had flown. Instantly
Jim turned and started to descend the stone stairs. What his intentions
were it would be difficult to say. It would have been a long and hard
task to have found out in which room, out of the many, the senorita was
now held prisoner, even if he had had leisure to look, but under the
circumstances with enemies on all sides it was impossible.
Already the captain and his men were near the foot of the winding stair,
and from the other direction came some of the panic-stricken Mexicans,
who had heard the voice of Captain Broome ringing through the house.
It doubtless gave them renewed courage to find that he was on deck;
besides, they would have been afraid to have him discover them lurking
in fear about the premises, and then, too, they had motives of their own
for joining in the chase now that reenforcements had arrived.
"Back up, Jim," cried John Berwick; "the dogs have got us cornered."
"Hold 'em off," exclaimed Jim; "take one shot; save the rest."
He leaped back to see what way of escape there might be without
retreating into the _cul de sac_ of the cell. He caught a projection in
the stone above the landing in an effort to reach the glass skylight. At
that moment there came a quick shot below him, and the report roared and
reechoed in the winding stairway. There was a yelp like that of a
wounded animal, and one of the Mexicans fell backward down the stairs,
not mortally wounded, as he thought he was.
For a moment the mob was held back, and then Captain Broome himself took
the lead; he contributed the force and fury of the charge, and the
Mexicans the loud yells and exclamations of burning wrath.
"This is the only way out, Jim," cried Berwick, making for the empty
cell. "No time to waste climbing up stone walls."
Jim saw the force of this; he leaped down to the landing, and as the
leaders of the charge came surging around the curve in the stone
stairway, he and Berwick rushed into the cell, slammed and barred the
door, as the enemy came against it with a dull thud.
There was no chance to make a barricade, as there was scarcely any
furniture in the cell. Nothing would have pleased Jim better than that
means of defense. There were just two things to do, either surrender or
to try the window.
Jim would never think of the first; death was better than that. It was
only a question of a few minutes before the door would be down and their
capture or death certain. Nothing needed to be said. Jim put out the dim
lamp as Berwick reached the leaded casement window.
In a moment they were out on a narrow balcony of iron, but green with
ivy and a rambler rose, that hung and nodded near the casement. The dim
light of morning was seeping through the heavy folds of fog, and
spreading in steel-like patches over the dark-hued Pacific.
Even in this moment of danger they were glad to breathe in the fresh
air. If only the fog was thicker it might be of help to them; if they
had only looked landward their hearts would have been lighter, for there
in huge rolls of gray the fog was moving, thick, impenetrable, over the
ground, and in a short time, probably not over a minute, the castle and
the whole coast would be enveloped.
But the two had to do something immediately, and could not stand there
admiring the scenery. Above them rose the high peak over the window, and
higher yet the hip of the roof. A glance was sufficient to show Jim that
they did not want to get up any higher in the world than they were.
Below them was the ridge of another roof, about a distance of a dozen
feet; a dizzy drop, but they had to do it; there was no other way.
"I'll go first," determined Jim, "and then you follow."
At that instant, a red glow shone through the thick round glass of the
casement, and the door fell with a crash. Jim climbed out, and holding
to the lower edge of the balcony, without the slightest hesitation,
dropped. His feet struck on the slant, and his hands gripped the ridge
and he pulled himself up. The engineer was already dangling in the air,
holding on to the edge.
"Now," cried Jim.
A moment after the casement had burst out, the engineer let go, Jim
steadied him as he struck, and exerting all his strength barely kept the
two of them from sliding down and out. The fog was already upon them
with its thick enveloping whiteness, and they could not see more than
two feet in either direction. It was indeed a case where fortune
appeared to favor the brave.
"They're down there all right," cried the captain in his harsh voice;
"we've got 'em where they can't get away. Don't shoot, lads, we'll take
'em alive."
A roar of approval met this declaration.
"Give me a lasso, Manuel, and hurry, or I'll take the end of it to you,"
roared the captain.
Jim put his hand on his comrade's shoulder and whispered:
"I want that lasso," and he edged along until he was directly underneath
the balcony, then he rose slowly to his feet, which, in his wet
stockings, did not slip. Manuel, indeed, had hurried, for no sooner had
Jim risen to the height of his precarious position than he saw the rope
dangling downward like a snake. He let it alone until he believed that
it was paid out to the full.
Then he gripped it with both of his powerful hands, and gave it a yank,
as though he were ringing out the old year. It pulled the sailor who was
paying the rope out bodily out of the balcony, and only the agility and
strength of the captain kept him from falling into the hands or upon the
head of the enemy below, but in the struggle he let go of the rope.
Jim, with his treasure firmly in hand, now moved rapidly along the ridge
of the roof to a chimney, paying no attention to the uproar on the
balcony above, nor to the shots that, with a dimmed report, tore
harmlessly through the gray garment of the fog. It did not take them
long to tie the rope around the chimney and then Berwick slid down past
several windows and with a drop of ten feet was on the ground once more.
In a moment Jim was standing by him. His first act was to seek out and
put on his shoes.
"Over the fence now, Captain?"
"No," replied Jim, "we won't give up the fight till we're beaten."
"Better get, while we have the chance," protested the engineer
earnestly.
"Come quick; I have a scheme," announced Jim. "We won't run yet."
"No faster than molasses in January," said the engineer irritably.
"Take it easy, John," said Jim soothingly, with a pat on the shoulder;
"we'll come out all right, my boy."
It was as though Jim were the older of the two, but it was the quality
of leadership in him that made him hearten his comrade. Berwick
responded, his good nature instantly restored.
"Go it, Cap. I'll see you through this if it takes my head and both
feet."
"Thank you, John," replied Jim, gripping the other's hand. "It won't be
as bad as that, I hope."
Then they started directly for the fence, to the complete surprise of
the engineer, for Jim had declared against that route most emphatically;
but Berwick made no protest, for, as James had said that he had a
scheme, he knew it would soon develop. He noticed that his leader made
no effort to disguise his footprints as they ran, and so it was not a
shock to him, when they reached the fence, to see that Jim made no
attempt to scale it. He stopped a moment to listen for any sign of
pursuit.
CHAPTER XXVI
IN THE MOW
"All quiet along the Potomac," remarked Jim, as no disturbance was heard
from the direction of the house.
"Not a sound was heard, not a funeral note," added the engineer, with
his usual whimsical humor.
"I bet that there will be a few funeral notes for that fellow who let go
the rope," put in Jim.
"Not to speak of what would happen to us if old Broome should get his
hand on we 'uns," remarked the engineer casually.
"He's just mad enough to chaw iron," grinned Jim. "Well, now, here's for
a little acrobatics."
Jim leaped up to the stone and cement parapet in which the iron fence
was set, taking care to leave a few mud traces on the cement; then he
went along for some little distance from iron bar to iron bar, and when
he rested he did not do so on the wall, so that all trace of their trail
was practically lost, even to the nose of a bloodhound. John Berwick
followed him with greater agility than Jim showed, for he was much
lighter, and very wiry, so that it was easy work for him compared with
the heavier Jim.
Berwick did not guess what their destination might be, though he had
some idea that Jim's scheme was to get down to the beach, but how this
was to be done without getting outside of the grounds he could not
figure. Then close by he saw the faint outline of a building through the
fog, and he thought for the moment that they had come back to the house;
however, he recognized it as the stable. This building was a rustic
affair, built with logs that still had the bark on, and had originally
cost much more than a stone or brick structure would.
"Here we are," said Jim in a low voice; "now look out for the hound."
"I don't believe that he is here now," said Berwick.
This proved to be the case, and they were able to slip into the stable
without anyone being the wiser. It seemed like a refuge to the two
comrades after the hazards that they had run during the past few hours.
And even Jim was fagged and worn, and now that there was time for
reaction his face showed it. There were deep cuts of fatigue in his
cheeks and his eyes looked haggard. They also burned, and his head was
full of a sort of vacant daze, from sleeplessness.
"I don't know, John, whether I'm hungrier or sleepier, but if I had to
choose I think that I would select a nap."
"You have had it a lot harder than I have, old chap," said the engineer;
"take a lay-off and get some sleep."
"I believe I will," agreed Jim; "I don't imagine that we will be
disturbed for some time at least."
There was plenty of hay in the warm, dusky mow, and a cozy, safe place
to rest in.
"I tell you what, Chief," said Jim, "let's both take a sleep, and then
we will be fresh for what may happen next."
"It wouldn't take much urging," replied the engineer; "I'm half dead for
sleep myself, but we had better make the doors secure first, in case
they should look for us here."
"No," rejoined Jim, "leave everything open; if they came to the stable
and found it locked on the inside, they would know, for sure, that we
were in here."
"But suppose some of the gang come in here while we are asleep, they
would be certain sure to hear one or both of us snoring."
"That's right enough," agreed Jim, "but I tell you what we can do, we'll
crawl down under the hay, get close to the wall, and our loudest snores
would be smothered."
"I guess you're right," agreed Berwick. "So lead on and I will follow."
"This reminds me of when I was a boy," declared Jim; "when we used to
tunnel in the hay to hide in the old barn on the back lot."
"When you were a boy," exclaimed Berwick, in good-natured raillery. "How
old do you consider yourself now, I should like to know?"
"Oh, I've lived in heartbeats, not in years," said Jim; "that makes me
about a hundred years old."
"It strikes me that it takes a good deal to make your heart beat faster
than usual," remarked the engineer; "you are a cool hand if there ever
was one." This was a sincere tribute.
Then the two comrades began to work back under and through the hay,
keeping close to the south wall, so that the hay showed no sign of
having been disturbed, and in a short time they had burrowed their way
clear through, until they reached the back wall. How comfortable and
cozy it was in the warm, dry hay! Jim stretched his weary length out
with a sigh of relief.
"Ah, John, isn't this great? After being through what we have,"
exclaimed Jim.
"It is fine," agreed Berwick, "to get into a safe, warm place like this
when you have been in constant danger, as we have, and cold and wet
besides. Here goes for a good sleep."
And the word was hardly out of his lips when he was sound asleep. Jim
looked at his watch by means of a crack of light that came in between
the logs, and saw that it was twenty minutes after six. And then, lulled
by the sound of the waves at the base of the cliffs, he too sank into a
deep, dreamless sleep.
He never thought of sleeping beyond a couple of hours, but he had not
counted on the effect of his extreme fatigue, and the sudden cessation
of the constant strain the two had been under for nearly eighteen hours.
So hour after hour went by and still they slept in the cozy and soft
dryness of the hay, that has no equal as a bed for the truly weary.
It was after two in the afternoon that something happened that roused
them; otherwise they might have slept until night, and indeed it was
almost as dusk as night, for the fog which had lifted in the morning
closed in thicker than ever, so that in the homes and offices of the
city the gas lamps and jets were burning.
Jim awoke with a start, utterly and absolutely bewildered. Where he was
he could not guess; his mind was a confused daze of fragments of events
that had happened during the night of adventure and excitement. Then he
came to himself and remembered how they came in this strange place. His
hand reached out and touched the foot of his sleeping comrade. But what
had roused him? There had been something; of that he was certain. So he
kept perfectly still, listening with the utmost intentness; then he
started slightly, for there was repeated the noise that had roused him
from his sleep. It was a low, terrible croon, like "o-o-h--o-o-h,"
repeated and repeated, and every once in a while its monotone was broken
by a sharp shriek.
Rested though he was, and not liable to nervous tremors, Jim felt his
flesh creep at the uncanny sound. It came, as far as he could judge,
from the open space in the mow not far from the ladder that led up into
the loft. But what it was he could not guess, nor its object in coming
to this particular spot. One thing was probable, that it had nothing to
do with them, and was not indicative of someone on their trail, but it
was no pleasant companion to have in that dusky loft.
He wished that John Berwick might wake, but he did not want to disturb
his much-needed rest until necessary. At that moment there came that
horrid shriek, and, as if in reply to it, the engineer struggled up with
a loud yell. Jim had to shake him vigorously to bring him out of his
very natural nightmare. The sound outside had suddenly stopped, and Jim
heard a rustling, creeping noise, and then all was silence.
"What in the deuce was that?" whispered Berwick.
Jim made no reply, only put his hand on his friend's shoulder. He could
imagine this object rising up and peering through the dusk, trying to
make out what that other noise might be, then evidently not much worried
about it. After a short interval, it began its peculiar croon again.
"I don't know what it is, John," replied Jim to his friend's repeated
question; "it has been going on some time before you waked. You must
have heard it in your sleep, and that is what gave you that nightmare."
"It must have been that," remarked the engineer, "because it could not
have been anything that I have eaten." There was no doubt about the
humor of this. They were able to talk together in low tones, for this
object outside seemed to be more concerned with its own troubles than
anything else.
"How long have we slept?" queried Berwick.
"Bless me if I know," replied Jim, "and it is so dark in here now that I
can't make out the time."
"Well, I reckon that it is high time to get up, anyhow," remarked
Berwick.
"It is more a question of getting out than of getting up," remarked
James, with his usual quaint humor.
But at this point Berwick put a hand of caution on Jim's shoulder, for
he was sure that there was something on hand.
CHAPTER XXVII
LOOK DOWN AND NOT UP
THE engineer was entirely right. There was somebody knocking at the
gate, as they are wont to say in romantic novels, but in this particular
case it was the barn doors where the noise was heard. They were rolled
back and then came the sound of loud voices, or, to be accurate, they
were rather shrill.
"That's the Mexicans," declared Berwick; "they are on our trail."
"We will make them get off," remarked Jim grimly.
"Better throw them off," said the engineer wisely.
"Gosh ding, I don't see how we are going to get out of here now if they
decide to make a search of the premises," remarked Jim; "we are in for
it."
John Berwick was on the point of saying something about "I told you so,"
but he thought better of it, for you remember that it had been his idea
to fasten the stable when they first came in. "I guess the only thing
for us to do is to make a rush for it when they discover us," said Jim,
"and trust to our luck which seems uncommon bad of late."
"Due to turn," said Berwick; "it's run against us long enough."
The men's voices below had suddenly ceased, and then there were signs of
a vigorous search on the lower floor. It was only a question of a little
time when the search would reach the hay loft, where our two friends
were in hiding, and then--
"I'm going to crawl around and see if I can't find some way of getting
out of this trap," declared Jim.
"All right, I'll stay here and guard our common fireside," replied the
engineer with his queer twist of humor.
"Speaking of firesides," remarked Jim; "if they would only set fire to
this place they would surely get us."
"It would be a case of roast pig, as Charles Lamb says," put in John
Berwick.
"The two would go well together, was he a sheep or a mutton," said Jim
coarsely, for be it known James was not much of an authority on English
literature, the only classics with which he was fully acquainted being,
"The Frontier Boys in Every Part of the World," which, with Shakespeare,
forms a complete library.
"I fear you are nothing but a Bravo, James," remarked his friend.
"What's that?" Jim inquired. "Some other time will do just as well," he
declared, "I am going scouting."
Suiting the action to the word, he started to crawl along the wall, and
it did not take him long to get free of the hay, and raising his head,
he saw something that made him draw down hurriedly, and take the trail
back to where his comrade was waiting.
"What luck?" asked Berwick.
"Not a place where a rat could crawl out," remarked Jim, "but you just
wait. I think there is something going to happen."
There did, but it was not exactly what was expected. It was evident that
the search below was over, and after a brief parley, heavy feet could be
heard coming up the ladder. At the moment that the leader's head
appeared through the opening, a gray and ghostly figure rose with its
weird, shrill cry of rage that startled the two comrades safely hidden
in the hay.
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