Frontier Boys on the Coast Part 8

This dense fog was a great help to the attacking party. They had now crawled half way down the main trail, when Pete came near putting all the fat in the fire, for his eyesight was not overly keen, and the fog made it more difficult for him. He did not see a round stone poised on the edge of the trail until it rolled down towards the pool.

Although every sound was deadened by the fog, still the watchful Jo heard it distinctly. He got quickly to his feet and, with soft moccasined tread he went in the direction of the sound, his pistol in his hand.

No sooner had the stone fallen than the Captain motioned the mate to halt. This signal was repeated to Jack Cales, who was so hidden by the fog that he could not see the Captain. He stopped suddenly so that old Pete tumbled over him, making some noise.

The Captain almost had a fit of apoplexy because he did not dare express himself at this interesting juncture. Jo had heard the noise on the trail and his suspicions centered in that direction. Noiselessly he went up with slight footprints in the damp dust of the trail. The Captain waited his coming, crouched behind a bend in the trail.

Then Jo saw a huge figure rising suddenly out of the fog in front of him and, before he could fire, a great hand gripped for his throat, but if he could not shoot in defense, at least he could give his comrades warning. He fired one shot, and then he was overpowered.

Jim and Juarez heard it instantly. Then Manuello got in some of his work. Before Juarez could rise, he struck him a vicious blow upon the head that stunned him, rendering him unconscious. Cold with fury, Jim picked up the rat of a Mexican before he could land a blow upon him, whirled him over his head and dashed him upon the ground.

Then he sprang through the fog in the direction of the shot. He heard Jo groan as the ruffians overpowered him and he leaped up the trail blind with a fighting rage. The Captain had just got up from the struggle with Jo, who lay as good as dead in the trail.

Then Jim hurled himself upon him. Powerful though he was, the Captain could not withstand the sinewy lurch of that sudden attack and together boy and man crashed from the trail over rocks and through brush until with a fearful impact they struck the trunk of a pine tree.

The mate sprang swiftly down to the rescue of his fallen master. He was a strong, sinewy man and knew how to act in an emergency.

CHAPTER X

"HAUL IN"

The jar of the fall had knocked out the Captain partially and Jim had risen to give him the coup de grace, when he heard the rush of the mate coming down through the fog. It was a strange sensation hearing your enemy but not able to see him.

Then the mate plunged into view, a dark ball through the opaqueness. He could not have stopped if he had so desired and it was evident that he did not wish to. For, with lowered head, he came for Jim as he would for an ugly sailor.

Jim stopped him with his shoulder and ripped in a right uppercut with his keen hard fist that would have stopped the heart action of an ordinary man, and it sent the seasoned mate back upon his haunches, partially dazed. Feeling the Captain squirming back to life, he planted a back blow with his heel in the latter's stomach that took the wind out of the Captain's sails for the time being. The mate, a really hardy individual, had made good use of the brief respite and, picking up a heavy stick, came for Jim with it.

The latter dodged the blow aimed at his head and it glanced off his shoulder. Then he closed with the sailor, struggling to put him out.

Three seconds more and Jim would have landed the proper blow, had not Jack Cales arrived upon the scene under cover of the melee. Before Jim could turn to meet this new a.s.sailant, a stone crashed against his head--and the frontier boys had lost.

The Captain had now recovered sufficiently to get on his feet, and the fallen Jim was kicked until the Captain himself called a halt.

"Wait till we get him on board s.h.i.+p, lads," he said, "and we will finish this job."

"Better get the other two, Cap'n," advised the mate.

So they dragged the prostrate Jim to the foot of the trail near where the drinking pool was and went to look for Juarez and Tom. They saw a small black object crawling towards them through the fog.

"What's this a coming?" asked Jack Cales.

"Why, it's my Mexican ferret," said the Captain. "What's the matter, Manuello?" he asked as he turned him over none too gently with his foot.

"The big Senor throw me over his head and on the ground. I think I crack the world open," he explained. The Captain roared with laughter.

"Where is the rest of this dangerous gang?" he asked.

"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."