Part 8 (2/2)

”I will show you,” he said, struggling to his feet. The presence of his master gave him strength and confidence. ”This way, Senor Captain.”

He brought them to where Juarez lay upon the ground, partially held up by Tom, who had been crying and endeavoring to bring his comrade back to consciousness from the ugly blow that the Mexican had given him. I am sure that none could blame Tom for tears upon this occasion for it was calculated to try the heart of the stoutest.

”Why, this boy looks like an Indian,” said the Captain regarding Juarez closely.

”He lived with the Indians when a boy, Senor Captain,” volunteered the dwarf, who by subtle means of his own had become possessed of the history of the four boys.

”He don't seem to be much more than a boy, now,” said the Captain. They had not paid much attention to Tom because he seemed a mere kid, but the hunchback was not to be caught napping, for he had worked around back of Tom, and as the latter aimed his revolver at the Captain, having worked it cautiously out of his holster, the dwarf grabbed him in the nick of time else the expedition would have lost its head.

Instead of being infuriated as one might have expected, the Captain was decidedly amused at the temerity of the youngster, for that is all Tom appeared to him, and, therefore, he did not hand him a beating.

”The nerve of the little rooster,” guffawed the Captain. ”I'll make a real pirate out of you.”

Tom struggled wildly, but it was no use, as Jack Cales and the mate disarmed him. Just then there came a loud yell from up the trail.

”Haul in, Cap'n!” It was Old Pete's well known and melodious voice.

”Jack, go and see what the old cuss wants,” ordered the Captain. ”I expect that the lad up there is trying to kidnap Pete.”

When Jack arrived on the scene, he found that the Skipper had guessed right. For Jo had been playing possum and was not nearly so badly hurt as he had appeared to be.

He came near escaping from his keeper and it was only by a quick forward lunge that Pete had grabbed him and then occurred a short struggle in which Pete had called for help and just as Jo had wrestled himself loose, Cales appeared and grabbed him. It took both Pete and Cales quite a while to subdue him.

Finally it was accomplished and they made him go down the trail, one on either side. At the foot of the incline he saw the bruised and battered form of Jim lying on the ground and a big lump came into his throat.

”You fellows will pay for this,” he said, rendered desperate by the sight of Jim. But his captors only laughed, not realizing that the Frontier Boys were apt to keep their word.

Then they joined the main gang and Jo saw to his dismay that Tom and Juarez were in the coils as well as himself and that Juarez, too, had been laid out and appeared dazed and only partially conscious of what was going on. Thus there was little hope of escape with the two leaders, Jim and Juarez, done for.

”Better search these beggars for their money, Captain,” suggested the mate.

”It hadn't slipped my mind,” replied the Skipper.

Now the money and the jewels that the boys had found in Mexico were in leather belts around their bodies. These were soon in the possession of the Captain, but the crew knew full well that they would receive their share and thus it was that the Skipper gave promise of living to a ripe old age instead of being murdered for his money.

”It's about time to make a start, Cap'n,” announced the mate, and the Captain consulted his watch by the light of a lantern. He found that it was half-past eleven.

”We won't be so long going back,” he said. ”We will use their horses.”

This was easier said than done, for when any of the crew approached Caliente, that n.o.ble animal became transformed into a tiger and as he came for them with bared teeth or whirled and kicked out with his heels, they decided that discretion was the better part of valor and they left him alone. Sailors at best are not very clever hors.e.m.e.n.

”Let me have a chance and I'll quiet him for you,” volunteered Jim gruffly. ”I don't want to see you poor fellows eaten alive.”

”My lad,” said the Skipper solemnly, ”I'm no spring chicken and you can't catch me with any such chaff.”

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