Border Boys Across the Frontier Read online

  CHAPTER XI.

  THE CAMP OF THE GUN-RUNNER

  Jounced against the rough, rock walls, bumped over shoal places, and attimes whirled almost broadside on by the swift current, the queer,flat-bottomed boat containing our three young friends was hurriedthrough the darkness. It was the maddest ride any of them had evertaken, and, as we know, they had been through some thrillingexperiences since they had first stood on the railroad station platformat Maguez. Had they known it, they could have controlled the boat moreor less with the rough oar--the one with which Ralph had sounded thedepth of the river--but, of course, they were inexpert in themanagement of such a craft. They could do nothing but keep still andtrust to luck to bring them safely out of their extraordinarypredicament.

  After some ten minutes of this, the current seemed to slacken a littleand the walls narrowed. Jack stretched out a hand and, to hisastonishment, his fingers were swept along a rope stretched down theside of the tunnel. This solved a problem he had been revolving in hismind--namely, how did the Mexicans get their boat back after it haddelivered its cargo of arms? The explanation was now a simple one.Evidently they hauled it back by the use of this rope. "It must havebeen hard work, though," thought Jack.

  Conversation was impossible in the confines of the tunnel which, inplaces, was a mere tube in the rocks; the roar of the water was almostdeafening. It was so black, too, that they could not see one another'sfaces. Of real alarm Jack did not feel much, and for an excellentreason. It was apparent that the Mexicans had used this undergroundroute across the border many times, and, if they could make thepassage--terrifying as it seemed--in safety, there was every reason tosuppose that the boys could make it with the same security.

  What worried Jack most about their situation proceeded from a fardifferent cause. There was little reason to doubt that at the otherend of the tunnel, wherever that might be, Black Ramon or hissuperiors, arming the insurrectionists, had guards posted to receivethe smuggled guns. If no opportunity of escaping from the boatpresented itself before they were hastened out of the exit of thetunnel, their situation would be just as bad as ever. Ramon would, ofcourse, lose no time in following them up, either by a spare boat,which he might have had concealed in the vaulted chamber, or else onhis fast, coal-black horse which he might ride across the rocky range,far above the subterranean stream.

  In the event of their falling once more into the hands of Ramon, Jackcould not repress a shudder as he thought of what the probable fatewould be. Ugly stories had from time to time floated across the borderconcerning the manner in which Ramon, in his cattle-rustling days,dealt with his prisoners,--stories of torture and suffering that madeone shudder even to listen to. If the apparent leader of theinsurrectionist gun-runners had cause for animosity against the boysbefore, it was surely redoubled now. Not only had they accidentallypenetrated the secret of the Haunted Mesa, but they had toppled theformer leader of the cattle-rustlers ignominiously into the water, aninsult which Jack knew the man's nature too well to suppose he wouldeasily either forgive or forget.

  In such gloomy reflections was he occupied when a sudden shout from theothers roused him from his reverie, and, looking up, he saw that thetunnel through which the river flowed was growing higher, broader, andlighter. The darkness had now been exchanged for a sort of semi-gloom,in which the almost black rock gleamed wetly where the hurrying currentof the stream had washed its base.

  "We're near the end!" shouted Walt to the others.

  Jack nodded. Suddenly his eye fell on Ramon's revolver, which lay atthe bottom of the boat as it had fallen when he toppled overboard. Onecartridge had been discharged, leaving but four good shells in thechamber, but in an emergency those four, the lad knew, would be betterthan no weapons at all. He regarded this as distinctly a piece of goodluck--this finding of the pistol. He examined it and found that it wasa heavy weapon of forty-four caliber.

  Hardly had he had time to observe all this before the boat, without theslightest warning, shot out into daylight, very much as a railroadtrain emerges from a tunnel. A swift glance at their surroundingsshowed Jack that they had floated into a sort of natural basin amidsome wild, bare-looking hills. The banks of this basin were clothedwith a sort of wild oat and interspersed with a small blue wild flower.Here and there were clumps of chapparal. But what pleased the lad mostwas the fact that, although not far from them a rude hut stood upon thebank, there was so far no sign of human occupancy of the place.

  Seizing the steering oar, Jack ran the boat up alongside a spot wherethe bank shelved gently down to the water's edge, and ran her, nose up,on the sand.

  "Hoo----" began Ralph jubilantly, his spirits carrying him away, butJack's hand was over his mouth in a second.

  "The less noise we make the better," he breathed, stepping out of theboat on tiptoe and signing to the others to do the same. With scarcelya sound, they landed and stood at length on the grassy carpet slopingdown to the sandy beach.

  So far not a sound had proceeded from the hut Jack turned to hiscompanions with a cautious gesture.

  "Wait here while I investigate," he whispered, "and be ready to jumpback into the boat and shove off at a minute's notice."

  They nodded and turned to obey, as Jack, as silently as he could, crepton toward the hut, his revolver clasped ready for use at the slightestalarm. The Border Boy did not mean to be caught napping. In thismanner he reached the wall of the hut nearest to the river, in whichthere was a small, unglazed window. Cautiously raising himself ontiptoe, Jack peered within.

  In a rough chair, by a table covered with the untidy remains of a meal,was seated an elderly Mexican, as shriveled and brown as a dried bean.The regularity with which he was "sawing wood" showed that he was assound asleep as it is possible for a man to be. Still Jack knew thatthere are men who sleep with one eye open, so he did not relax an iotaof his vigilance as he crept around the corner of the house. On theopposite side he found a doorway, and, noiselessly gliding in, he hadthe pistol to the Mexican's ear before whatever dreams the man mighthave been having were even disturbed.

  "Caramba, sanctissima! Santa Maria!" yelled the man, springing to hisfeet as if propelled by springs. But the uncomfortable sensation ofthe little circle of steel pressed to the nape of his neck brought himback again into the chair in a second, trembling like a leaf, andgazing in terror at the determined young figure standing over him.

  "Keep quiet and I'll not hurt you," said Jack, adding as anafterthought: "Do you speak English?"

  "Me spiggoty 'Merican," sputtered the trembling old Mexican.

  "All right, Jose, then listen: Are there any horses here?"

  The old man's eyes held a gleam of intelligence.

  "Cavallo, senor. One, two, t'ree horse over heel."

  "Oh, over the hill, are they?" said Jack to himself, then aloud: "Youcome and show them to me."

  "Mocho easy to find," protested the Mexican.

  Jack smiled to himself. He had been right, then. The old man wastrying to trick him. Assuming a sterner air, he thundered out,

  "Tell me where these horses are or I'll kill you!"

  The threat proved effectual, as Jack had hoped it would. Dropping allhis attempts at subterfuge, the Mexican told the boy that the horseswere in a gully not a hundred feet from the house. On the Mexicanbeing escorted there, still with the pistol held close to his head, hiswords were found to be true.

  Three horses, ready saddled and bridled, stood in the gulch, apparentlyreserved for the use of any one about the camp who should need them ina hurry.

  This much ascertained, Jack marched the Mexican back to the hut, where,with a rope, he leisurely proceeded to bind him. Then, amid thefellow's tears and supplications--for he evidently thought he was aboutto be killed--the boy marched him to the river bank. Walt and Ralphwere naturally bubbling over with questions, but they said nothing asJack sternly ordered the aged Mexican to board the boat.

  There were more prayers and tears, but finally the shriveled o
ld chapgot on board, and the boys shoved him off. The current rapidly borehim off down the stream and presently he vanished between the twopoints of land through which the river made its way out of the basin.

  "Well, he's off for a good, long ride," said Jack, as with howls andyells from its passenger the boat vanished from view.

  "Why didn't you just bind him and leave him in the hut?" asked Ralph.

  "Because Ramon may be along at any moment, and the old fellow mightgive him some information concerning us we wouldn't like to havepublished," was the rejoinder. "In that boat he is in no danger andwill simply take a long and pleasant ride, and won't be in a positionto do us any mischief when he is finally rescued."

  The boys were full of admiration for Jack's strategy, and openlyexpressed their congratulations on the skillful way he had carriedthings through, but the lad waved them aside impatiently. Rapidly hetold them that their best course was to get on horseback as soon aspossible, and head away from the valley.

  Some five minutes later three youthful figures mounted on a trio ofsplendid specimens of horse flesh, loped easily up a trail leading fromthe natural basin in the hills. In Jack's pocket, too, reposed acertain paper found on the table in the hut and signed with Ramon deBarros' name. With a vague idea that it might prove useful to him, theboy had appropriated it, and shoved it hastily in his pocket.

  The summit of the basin reached, the boys found themselves not far froma broad, white road. The compass, which Jack still had on his wrist,showed the direction to be about due east and west. Crossing a stretchof grass, which separated them from the thoroughfare, the three younghorsemen were soon standing on the ribbonlike stretch of white whichwound its way through a country pleasantly green and fresh-lookingafter their sojourn in the desert.

  "Looks like the promised land," cried Walt.

  "I'll bet we're the first bunch to find the promised land via theunderground railway," laughed Ralph, as they gazed about them,undecided in which direction to proceed.