Part 15 (2/2)
I could do nothing. It came, and it was all over before I know what was doing. Senors, you must have pity on me--you must leave my house immeditely.”
Bushnell caught enough of this to translate it to the others.
”Ther best thing we kin do is ter git out instanter,” he said. ”Ef we wait, ther outlaws will watch every road out of ther town, an' we'll hev trouble in gittin' away.”
”Then let's get away immediately,” fluttered the professor. ”If I fall into their hands again, I'm a dead man!”
”Yes, we will get out immediately,” decided Frank; ”but we'll do it as secretly and silently as possible.”
Bushnell nodded his satisfaction, and, thirty minutes later, the party was ready to move. They left the hotel by a back way, and, guided by the landlord, made their way along dark and narrow streets, creeping cautiously through the town till the outskirts were reached.
There Frank gave the landlord some money, and, after calling down blessings on their heads, he quickly slipped away and disappeared.
”Now we'll hustle right along,” said the Westerner. ”We'll put a good long stretch between ourselves an' Huejugilla el Alto before mornin'.
We're off, bound straight inter ther mountains----”
”And straight for the Silver Palace,” added Frank.
CHAPTER X.
THE STRANGER.
They were fortunate in getting away without being seen by any of the bandits, and at dawn they were well up into the mountains, where Bushnell found a secluded place for them to camp and rest, as rest was something of which they all sorely stood in need.
Bushnell prepared breakfast, and Frank insisted that Professor Scotch should explain how he escaped from Pacheco's gang.
”Don't ask me,” sighed the little man, fondling his red whiskers. ”I can't explain it--really I can't.”
”Why not?”
”Well, you see, I don't know how I happened to do it. They forced me to write that letter against my will, two of them standing over me with drawn daggers while I was writing, and prodding me a bit whenever I refused to put down the words Pacheco ordered written.”
”Then Pacheco speaks English?”
”As well as I do.”
”What does he look like?”
”I don't know.”
”How is that?”
”He kept his face concealed with his serape quite up to his eyes.”
”Thar's a mystery about Pacheco,” broke in Bushnell. ”No one seems ter know jest what ther varmint looks like.”
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