Part 23 (1/2)

”The captives aren't here!”

”Aren't here!” cried Bud, Nort and d.i.c.k together.

”Don't let nim fool you!” shouted Yellin' Kid.

”Order them to march out, unarmed and then we'll search their camp,”

called Captain Marshall.

Seeing that it would be useless to prolong matters, and knowing his entire band would be wiped out if he continued the fight, now that his rear was attacked, Paz growled out the necessary orders to his followers, and they came out from amid the rocks--that is those who could walk.

They were a sorry-looking lot. Always of a nondescript type, dirty, ragged and greasy, the Yaquis were even worse now, for they had been on the trail for some time, and had taken part in at least two fights.

They had had no time to recuperate since making the raid in La Nogalique.

As they filed out, miserably enough, they were pa.s.sed into a sort of hollow square, formed by the troopers, and there each Indian was searched for a hidden knife or revolver. One or two were found and confiscated amid the snarls of rage on the part of the owners, who, doubtless, meditated treachery.

Paz and his followers having been secured, a guard placed over them, and the wounded of the troopers being cared for as well as possible, search was made of the place where the Yaquis had made their stand.

Several dead Indians were found, and some so badly wounded that death was only a question of a short time. These were made as comfortable as possible, for though they were ent.i.tled to little consideration while the fight was on, matters were different after the surrender.

”But where can Rosemary and Floyd be?” was the question asked over and over again by the boy ranchers and their friends, when it was seen that the captives were not in the Yaquis camp. At first it was supposed they had been sent to the rear with the Indians who were guarding the ponies. But there was no trace of the youth and his sister who had been carried away.

Then the more sinister thought came.

”Could they have been made away with?”

No one asked this in so many words, but it was in the minds of all, and a careful search was made to disclose if the ground had been recently dug up. Nothing of the sort was found, however, and then the boy ranchers and their friends breathed more easily.

But though the main body of Yaquis had been captured the prisoners were not found. And one of the objects of the rescue party--the main object in fact--was to locate Rosemary and Floyd.

”We've got to get it out of Paz what has happened to them, if we--if we have to torture him!” declared Snake. ”Can't you make him talk, Captain?”

”Well, of course we dare not, for the sake of the good name of Uncle Sam's men, resort to torture. But we can try some modern police methods--putting him through the third degree, so to speak.”

”That's it!” cried Bud. ”Give Paz the third degree!”

Once the prisoners were secured, the wounded attended to and the dead buried, the whole attention of the rescue party was given to locating Rosemary and Floyd. That Paz knew the secret of their disappearance could not be doubted--at least our friends did not doubt.

”Though of course,” said Captain Marshall, when preparations were going on for putting Paz through the third degree series of questions, ”of course there may have been several bands involved in this raid, and some other body of Yaquis may have taken away the young man and his sister.”

”It was Paz, I'm sure of it!” declared Bud.

”He looks guilty!”

Certainly the Yaquis leader looked ugly and mean enough to have perpetrated this deed. But he maintained a scowling silence as he sat on the ground before his captors.

”Now, Paz,” began Lieutenant Snow, who acted as interpreter, ”you may as well tell the truth first as last, for we're going to get it out of you, if we have to resort to--well, you know what I mean. _Sabe_?”

”No _sabe_!” grunted the Indian.

Then the work began. It was not a pleasant task, and it was only excusable on the plea of dire necessity. The Yaquis were ent.i.tled to no mercy.