Part 12 (2/2)

His horse was a splendid sorrel, somewhat taller than the horse that Jim rode. And he was a gallant figure in his leather riding suit and peaked sombrero with a brilliant colored band around it.

Jim and Jo rode few yards behind the Spaniard and side by side. Jim felt a certain exultation in his victory over the Black before people who would have liked to have seen him defeated. It was exhilarating, too, this plunging gallop ahead with a chance to rescue Tom and Juarez and to get even with Captain Broom and his gang, who had taken away their valuables and had given the boys such a cruel defeat.

”This is a fine horse,” said Jim, ”though he hasn't the stride of Caliente.”

”He is a beauty, when it comes to bucking,” Jo commented. ”There is nothing the matter with this bay but my black can beat him for speed.”

So they flew on, the speed of their steeds blowing back their horses'

manes, and the fresh air from the sea bringing a feeling of hope to their hearts, that they would yet be able to overtake the pirates, and rescue their comrades in distress. Their horses' feet were devouring the miles.

”We stand a chance to get 'em at this rate,” shouted Jim.

”Won't it be fine if we can all sit down to dinner tonight?” replied Jo.

”I bet that Tom and Juarez would enjoy a square meal with the Senor at the ranch house. Ifs kind of nice to be civilized once in a while.”

”You're right, it is,” declared Jim emphatically.

”I wonder if there isn't a store around here where we could buy some clothes,” inquired Jo, anxiously. ”We look too disreputable to appear in polite society.”

”Thinking about that girl, I suppose?” remarked Jim with brotherly intuition.

”I wouldn't be so sure if I were you,” replied Jo evasively. ”How about the Senorita down in Mexico who threw you the rose at the castle?” This reference to the Senorita Cordova whom the Frontier Boys had rescued in Mexico, checked Jim from getting too gay for he still had a tender place in his memory for her.

The fog by this time was entirely dissipated, and they could see by certain white or rather light spots in the clouds where the sun was going to break through and an absolutely clear day would result. The three riders had now reached the brush region that began a few miles from the coast and they were compelled to go more slowly.

But if they had only known what was going on not more than two miles away from where they were, they would not have slackened speed no matter what risk they ran. For Captain Broom and his crew with the two captives had arrived at the cove and old Pete and Jack Cales were going into the cave for the boat.

There was a chance, but the Senor and his companions must hurry. Some mishap to the pirates' expedition just at this point and the frontier boys would win. Tom and Juarez might have sung the tune that they had often sung before in camp.

”Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching, Cheer up, comrades, they will come, And beneath the starry flag We will breathe the air again Of freedom in our own beloved home.”

But they did not know and they sat miserable and dejected upon the damp sand of the beach, not knowing that Jim and Jo were coming nearer every second. Then there came an accident, though a slight one, that gave the pursuers a chance.

Old Pete was carrying one end of the boat. He was nervous, anyway, in regard to the cave and its grewsome contents, thought he saw some dark spectre coming for him out of the blackness of the cave and he dropped his end of the boat and scudded for the beach.

The Captain was furious, giving him a blow that sent him spinning half way down to the water, and he and the mate rushed back to see what damage the boat had suffered. It was only slightly stove in, but every second was precious. The pursuers were only a mile away.

Jim began to grow restless as they neared the coast. He seemed to feel that they were nearing the enemy, and at his urging, the Spaniard, who had an increased respect and liking for Jim ever since he had conquered Black Diablo, put his horse to the gallop, and away they went along the narrow winding path through the bushes.

The branches whipt them, but they paid no attention, but on they went; it was evident that they made considerable racket and Captain Broom, with a fierce burst of energy for which he was famous, got the boat launched, the two prisoners in, and with himself and the mate at the oars, made the boat leap forward over the lazy rolling swell towards the graceful Sea Eagle.

When they had reached a point half-way to the vessel, the hors.e.m.e.n came tearing through the last screen of brush onto the yellow sand. The enemy had escaped by the skin of its teeth and it was heart-rending to see Tom and Juarez being carried away from them at every stroke of the oars towards their black prison. Jim put up his hands to his mouth and yelled:

”We will rescue you, boys. Don't give up. We'll get 'em yet.”

A derisive yell greeted this challenge and one of the men in the boat fired at the group on the sh.o.r.e, but the bullet fell harmlessly short.

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