Books: The Pony Rider Boys in New Mexico
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Frank Gee Patchin >> The Pony Rider Boys in New Mexico
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The Pony Rider Boys in New Mexico
or
The End of the Silver Trail
by Frank Gee Patchin, 1910
_________________________________________________________________
CHAPTER I
SOMETHING IN THE WIND
"What was that?"
"Only one of the boys in the seat behind us, snoring."
"Sure they're asleep?"
"Yes, but what if they're not? They are only kids. They wouldn't
understand."
"Don't you be too sure about that. I've heard about those kids. Heard
about 'em over in Nevada. There's four of them. They call themselves
the Pony Rider Boys; and they're no tenderfeet, if all I hear is true.
They have done some pretty lively stunts."
"Yes, that's all right, Bob, but we ain't going to begin by getting
cold feet over a bunch of kids out for a holiday."
"Where they going?"
"Don't know. Presume they'll be taking a trip over the plains or
heading for the mountains. They've got a stock car up ahead jammed
full of stock and equipment."
"Scarecrows?"
"No. Good stock. Some of the slickest ponies you ever set eyes on.
There's one roan there that I wouldn't mind owning. Maybe we can make
a trade," and the speaker chuckled softly to himself.
A snore louder than those that had preceded it, caused the two men to
laugh heartily.
The snore had come from Stacy Brown. Both he and Tad Butler were
resting from their long journey on the Atlantic and Pacific train.
Further to the rear of the car, their companions, Ned Rector and
Walter Perkins, also were curled up in a double seat, with Professor
Zepplin sitting very straight as if sleep were furthest from his
thoughts. They were nearing their destination now, and within the hour
would be unloading their stock and equipment at Bluewater.
"They're asleep all right," grinned one of the two men who occupied
the seat just ahead of Stacy and Tad. "Is old man Marquand going to
meet us at the station?"
"Oh, no. That wouldn't be a good thing. Might attract too much
attention. Told him not to. We'll get a couple of ponies at Bluewater
and ride across the mountains. But we've got to be slick. The old man
is no fool. He'll hang on to the location of the treasure till the
last old cat's gone to sleep for good."
"Any idea where the place is?"
"No. Except that it's somewhere south of the Zuni range."
A solitary eye in the seat behind, opened cautiously. The eye belonged
to Stacy Brown. The last snore had awakened him, and he had lain with
closed eyes listening to the conversation of the two men.
He gave Tad a gentle nudge, which was returned with a soft pressure on
Stacy's right arm as a warning that he was to remain quiet.
"Do you know what the treasure consists of?"
"Maybe a mine, but as near as I could draw from Marquand's talk it is
jewels and Spanish money which one of the old Franciscan monks had
buried. The Pueblos knew where it was, but they sealed the place up
after the Pueblo revolution in 1680, and it's been corked tight ever
since."
"How'd Marquand get wise to it?"
"From an old Pueblo Chief whose life he saved a few months ago. The
old chief died a little while afterwards, but before he went, he told
Marquand about the treasure."
"Didn't suppose a redskin had so much gratitude under his tough skin.
Does the old man know where the place is?"
"No, not exactly. That's where we come in," grinned the speaker. "We
are going to help him find it."
"And then?"
"Oh, well. There's lots of ways to get rid of him."
"You mean?"
"He might tumble off into a canyon, or something of the sort, in the
night time. Here's the place."
The train was rounding a bend into the little town of Bluewater.
"Sit still," whispered Tad. "I want to get a look at those fellows so
I'll know them next time I see them."
The Pony Rider boy left his seat, and hurrying to the forward end of
the car, helped himself to a drink of water from the tank; then slowly
retraced his steps.
As he walked down the car, he took in the two men in one swift,
comprehensive glance, then swung his hands to his companions at the
other end of the car, as a signal that they were arriving at their
destination.
"Know 'em?" whispered Stacy as Tad began pulling his baggage from the
rack.
"Never saw either before. Better get your stuff together. This train
is fast only when it stops. It drags along over the country, but when
it gets into a station it's always in a hurry to get away," laughed
Tad.
A few minutes later the party of bronzed young men sprang from the car
to the station platform, where they instantly became the center of a
throng of curious villagers.
Readers of the preceding volumes of this series are already too well
acquainted with the Pony Rider Boys to need a formal introduction. As
told in "THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE ROCKIES," the lads had set out
from their homes in Missouri for a summer's vacation in the saddle.
That first volume detailed how the lads penetrated the fastnesses of
the Rockies, hunted big game and how they finally discovered the Lost
Claim, which they won after fighting a battle with the mountaineers,
thus earning for themselves quite a fortune.
In "THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN TEXAS," the boys were again seen to
advantage. There they joined in a cattle drive across the state as
cowboys. They played an exciting part in the rough life of the cowmen,
meeting with many stirring adventures. It will be remembered how, in
this story, Tad Butler saved a large part of the herd, besides
performing numerous heroic deeds, including the saving of the life of
a member of the party from a swollen river. At the end of their
journey, they solved a deep mystery-- a mystery that had perplexed and
worried the cattle men, besides causing them heavy financial loss.
In "THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN MONTANA," the scene shifted to the old
Custer Trail, the battle ground of one of the most tragic events in
American history. The story described how Tad Butler overheard a plot
to stampede and kill a flock of many thousand sheep; how after
experiencing many hardships, he finally carried the news to the owner
of the herd; then later, participated in the battle between the cowmen
and sheep herders, in which the latter emerged victorious.
It will be recalled too, how the Pony Rider Boy was captured by the
Blackfeet Indians and taken to their mountain retreat, where with a
young companion he was held until they made their escape with the
assistance of an Indian maiden; how they were pursued by the savages,
the bullets from whose rifles singing over the heads of the lads as
they headed for a river into which they plunged, thus effectually
throwing off the savage pursuers; and finally, how in time they made
their way back to the camp of the Pony Riders, having solved the
mystery of the old Custer Trail.
After these exciting adventures, the lads concluded to cut short their
Montana trip and go on to the next stage of their journeyings, which
was destined to be even more stirring than any that had preceded it.
How Tad Butler and Stacy Brown proved themselves to be real heroes,
was told in "THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE OZARKS."
For a long time, an organized band of thieves had been stealing stock
in the Ozark range, baffling all efforts to apprehend them. The boys
had been warned to guard their own stock carefully, but despite this,
their ponies were stolen from camp, one by one and in a most
mysterious manner, until not an animal was left. Then, one by one, the
Pony Rider Boys became lost until only Tad and Stacy remained. They
were facing starvation, and it will be recalled how Tad Butler made a
plucky trip to the nearest mining camp for assistance. There the boys
were imprisoned underground by a mine explosion; escaping from which,
they met with perils every bit as grave, and from which they were
eventually rescued by Stacy himself.
Through the disaster, the lads solved the Secret of the Ruby Mountain,
thus putting an end for good to the wholesale thieving in the Ozark
range.
Though the Pony Rider Boys had suffered many hardships in their
journeyings, those that lay before them were destined to try them even
more. In "THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE ALKALI," they faced the perils of
the baking alkali desert. It will be recalled how they fought
desperately for water when all the usual sources of supply were found
to have run dry; how Tad and Stacy Brown were captured by a desert
hermit and thrown into a cave; how, after their escape, they were lost
in the Desert Maze, and how after many hardships, they finally
succeeded in making their way to camp, dragging behind them a wild
coyote that Tad had roped when the boys were beset by the wild beasts
in the dead of night.
Nothing daunted by their trying experiences the Pony Rider Boys set
out on the concluding trip of the season-- a journey over the historic
plains and mountains of New Mexico. After a long railroad ride, they
had finally arrived at the town of Bluewater, from which they were to
begin their explorations in the southwest.
A guide was to meet and conduct them across the mountains of the Zuni
range and so on to the southern borders of the state.
By the time they reached the platform of the station, the stock car
had been uncoupled and was being shifted to a side track where they
might unload their belongings at their leisure.
"I wonder where that guide is," said Tad.
"He was told to be here," answered the Professor.
"Never mind; we can unload better without him," averred Ned, starting
off at a brisk trot for their car which had been shunted alongside the
platform at the rear of the station.
With joyous anticipation of the new scenes and experiences that lay
before them, the lads set briskly to work, and within an hour had all
the stock and equipment removed from the car.
There was quite an imposing collection, with their ponies, their
burros, tents and other equipment, the latter lying strewn all over
the open level space beyond the station.
"Looks as if a circus had just come to town," laughed Walter.
"We've got a side show, anyway," retorted Ned.
"What's our side show?"
"Chunky's that."
"No; he's the clown. The rest of us are the animals, only we're not in
cages."
"Hey, fellows, see that funny Mexican on the burro there," laughed
Chunky. "Guess he never saw an outfit like ours before."
The lads could not repress a laugh as they glanced at the figure
pointed out by Stacy.
The man was sitting on the burro, his feet extended on the ground
before him, hands thrust deep into trousers pockets. He was observing
the work of the boys curiously. The fellow's high, conical head was
crowned by a peaked Mexican hat, much the worse for wear, while his
coarse, black hair was combed straight down over a pair of small,
piercing, dark eyes. The complexion, or such of it as was visible
through the mask of wiry hair, was swarthy, his form thin and
insignificant.
Stacy Brown strode over to him somewhat pompously.
"You speak English?" questioned the boy.
"Si, seņor."
The Mexican's lips curled back, revealing two rows of gleaming, white
teeth.
"I'm glad to hear it. I didn't think you could. We are looking for a
guide who was to have met us here to conduct us over the mountains.
His name is Juan. It'll be something else when he does show up. Do you
know him?"
"Si, seņor."
"Isn't he coming to meet us?"
"Si, seņor."
"Well, I must say he's taking his time about getting here. Where is
he?"
"Juan here, seņor."
"Here? I don't see him," answered the lad, looking about the place.
"Me Juan," grinned the Mexican. "You?"
"Never mind the seņor. I'll take for granted I'm a seņor, or whatever
else you think. Say, fellows, come here," commanded Stacy.
"Well, what's the matter?" demanded Ned, approaching, followed by the
other boys.
"This is it," announced Stacy, with a wave of his hand toward the
Mexican.
"What is it?" sniffed Ned.
"This."
"Chunky, what are you getting at?" questioned Walter.
"Perhaps this gentleman will know where we may find our guide,"
interrupted the Professor, coming up. "Seņor, do you know one Juan--"
"Yes, he knows him," grinned Stacy. "He's very well acquainted with
the gentleman."
"Then where may we find this Juan
"That's Juan-- that's your guide," Stacy informed the Professor.
"You-- are you the guide?"
"Si, seņor."
The Professor opened his eyes in amazement. The burro, on the other
hand, stood with nose to the ground sound asleep, oblivious to all
that was taking place about him.
"Why didn't you make yourself known-- why haven't you helped us to
unload?" demanded the Professor in an irritated tone.
"Me no peon. Me guide."
"He's a guide," explained Stacy. "Guides don't work, you know,
Professor. They are just ornaments. He and the burro are going to pose
for our amusement."
The boys laughed heartily. Professor Zepplin uttered an exclamation of
impatience.
"Sir, if you are going with this outfit you will be expected to do
your share of the labor. There are no drones in our hive."
"No; we all work," interposed Stacy.
"And some of us are eaters," added Ned.
Juan shrugged his shoulders and showed his pearly teeth.
At the Professor's command, however, Juan stepped off the burro
without in the least disturbing that animal's dreams and lazily began
collecting the baggage as directed by the Professor. After the
equipment had been sorted into piles, the boys did it up into neat
packs which they skillfully strapped to the backs of the burros of
their pack train. Juan, lost in contemplation of their labors, forgot
his own duties until reminded of them by Stacy, who gave the guide a
violent poke in the ribs with his thumb.
Juan started; then, with a sheepish grin, became busy again.
It was no small task to get their belongings in packs preparatory to
the journey; but late in the afternoon the boys had completed their
task. They had had nothing to eat since early morning. But they were
too anxious to be on their way to wait for dinner in town.
After making some necessary purchases in the village, the procession
finally started away across the plain.
"You'll never get anywhere with that sleepy burro, Juan," decided the
Professor, with a shake of the bead.
"Him go fast," grinned the Mexican.
"So can a crab on dry land," jeered Ned.
Just then the guide utter a series of shrill "yi-yi's," whereupon the
lads were treated to an exhibition such as they never had seen before.
The sleepy burro projected his head straight out before him, while his
tail, raised to a level with his back, stuck straight out behind him.
The burro, seemingly imbued with sudden life, was off at a pace faster
than a man could run.
It was most astonishing. The boys gazed in amazement; then burst out
in a chorus of approving yells.
But it was the rider, even more than the burro, that excited their
mirth. His long legs were working like those of a jumping jack, and
though astride of the burro, Juan was walking at a lively pace. It
reminded one of the way men propelled the old-fashioned velocipedes
years before.
A cloud of dust rose behind the odd outfit as the party drew out on
the plains. Their ponies were started at a gallop, which was necessary
to enable them to keep up with the pace that Juan had set.
"Here! Here!" shouted the Professor.
Juan never looked back.
"We're leaving the pack train. Slow down!"
Laughingly the lads pulled their ponies down to a walk; then halted
entirely to enable the burros to catch up with them. By this time the
pack animals had become so familiar with their work that little
attention was necessary on the part of the boys. Now and then one more
sleepy than the rest would go to sleep and pause to doze a few minutes
on the trail. This always necessitated all hands stopping to wait
until the sleeper could be rounded up and driven up to the bunch.
Juan had disappeared. They were discussing the advisability of sending
one of the boys out after him when he was seen returning. But at what
a different gait! His burro was dragging itself along with close to
the ground, while Juan himself was slouching on its back half asleep.
"You must have a motor inside that beast," grinned Tad.
"Him go some, seņor?"
"Him do," answered Stacy, his solemn eyes taking in the sleepy burro
wonderingly.
"Better not waste your energy performing," advised the Professor. "We
shall need what little you have. We will make camp here, as I see
there is a spring near by. Help the boys unpack the burros."
"Si, seņor," answered the guide, standing erect and permitting his
burro to walk from under him.
With shouts and songs the lads, in great good humor, went to work at
once, pitching their camp for the first time on the plains of New
Mexico. There was much to be done, and twilight was upon them before
they had advanced far enough to begin cooking their evening meal.
CHAPTER II
IN THE ZUNI FOOTHILLS
A sudden wail from the guide attracted the attention of the party to
him at once. "Now what's the matter?" demanded Tad, hurrying to him.
The guide had thrown himself prone upon the ground and was groaning as
if in great agony, offering no reply to the question.
"Are you sick?"
"Si, si, seņor," moaned Juan.
"Where?"
"Estomago-- mucho malo."
"Your stomach?"
"He's got a pain under his apron," diagnosed Stacy solemnly.
"Been working too hard," suggested Ned.
In the meantime the guide was rolling and twisting on the ground,
glancing appealingly from one to the other of them.
"Professor, hadn't you better fetch your medicine case and dose him
up?" asked Tad.
"Yes, I'll attend to him."
"Give him a good dose while you are about it," urged Ned. "Something
that will cure his laziness at the same time."
The Professor brought his case; then, remembering something else in
his kit that he wanted, he laid the case down and hurried back to his
tent. However, Stacy opened the case, selecting a bottle, apparently
at random, drew the cork and held the bottle under Juan's nose.
"Smell of this, my son. It'll cure your estomago on the run."
"Be careful, Chunky, what are you doing there?" warned Tad. "You
shouldn't fool with the medicines. You--"
His further remarks were cut short by a sudden yell of terror and pain
from Juan.
The guide leaped to his feet choking, gasping, while the tears ran
down his cheeks as he danced about as if suddenly bereft of his
senses.
"Now you've gone and done it," growled Ned. "He never moved so fast in
his life, I'll wager."
Juan was running in a circle now, shrieking and moaning. Professor
Zepplin approached them in a series of leaps. He could not imagine
what new disaster had overtaken the lazy Mexican.
"Here, here, here, what's the trouble now?" He demanded sternly. "Stop
that howling!"
"Chunky's been prescribing for your patient in your absence," Ned
informed him.
The Professor grabbed the wild guide by the collar, giving him a
vigorous shake. When he released his grip, Juan sank to the ground in
a heap, moaning weakly.
"What's that you say? Stacy prescribed--"
"I-- I let him smell of the bottle," explained Stacy guiltily.
"What bottle?"
Stacy slowly picked up the offending bottle and handed it to the
Professor.
"Ammonia! Boy, you might have put his eyes out! Never let this occur
again. Remember, you are not to touch the medicines under any
circumstances whatever!"
"Yes, sir," agreed Chunky meekly, while Ned Rector strolled away,
shaking with laughter.
"Drink," begged the patient.
"Fetch him some water," directed Professor Zepplin.
"No, no, no, seņor," protested Juan, gesticulating protestingly.
"What do you want?"
"Guess he wants something stronger than water," suggested Ned.
"Si, si, si," agreed the guide, showing his white teeth in an
approving grin.
"You won't get anything stronger than that in this outfit, unless you
cook yourself some coffee," muttered Tad.
"That's what's the matter with him," decided Chunky, who had been
observing the sick man keenly.
"Guess we drew a prize when we got Juan," announced Walter.
"Give him some medicine, anyway," urged Ned. "He is sick-- let him
take the dose."
"Let him have the worst you've got in your case, Professor," added
Tad, with a laugh.
A grim smile played about the corners of Professor Zepplin's mouth as
he ran his fingers over the bottles in his medicine case. Finally,
selecting one that seemed to fit the particular ailment of his
patient, he directed Chunky to fetch a spoon.
By this time Juan was protesting volubly that he was "all better" and
did not need the medicine. The Professor gave no heed to the fellow's
protestations.
"Open your mouth," he commanded.
Juan shut his teeth tightly together.
"Open your mouth!" commanded the Professor sternly. "We want no sick
men about this camp. It will fix you in a minute."
But the guide steadfastly refused to separate the white teeth.
"Boys, open his mouth while I pour the medicine down him," gritted the
Professor.
They required no urging to do the Professor's bidding. Tad and Ned
ranged themselves on either side of the patient, while Chunky sat on
the guide's feet. Almost before he was aware of their purpose the boys
had pried his jaws open and into the opening thus made professor
Zepplin dropped the concoction he had mixed.
The effect was electrical. Juan leaped to his feet as if elevated by
springs, uttering a yell that might have been heard a mile or more on
the open plain. But Juan did not run in a circle this time. Acting
upon the mathematical theory that a straight line is the shortest
distance between two points, the guide made a break for the spring,
howling like a madman. The Pony Rider Boys looked on in amazement.
Juan fell on his knees before the spring, dipping up the water in his
hands.
"What did you give him, professor?" grinned Tad.
"Hot drops!" answered the man of science tersely.
"Not that stuff you fed me when I ate too much honey in the Rockies?"
questioned Stacy.
"The same."
"Wow! I had ten drops and it felt like a pailful when it got inside of
me."
"How much did you give Juan?" questioned Walter.
"Twenty drops," answered Professor Zepplin without the suspicion of a
smile on his face this time.
The Pony Rider Boys added their yells to those of the guide, only with
a difference. The more Juan drank of the spring water, the more did
the hot drops burn.
All at once he sprang up and started for the plain.
"Catch him!" commanded the Professor.
With a shout the lads started in pursuit. They overhauled the guide
some twenty rods from camp, he having proved himself fleet of foot.
Then again, the fire within him perhaps helped to increase his natural
speed.
"I burn! I burn!" he wailed as the boys grabbed and laughingly hustled
him back to camp.
"You'll burn worse than that if you ever ask for liquor in this
outfit," retorted Ned. "We don't use the stuff, nor do we allow anyone
around us who does."
"How do you feel now?" grinned the Professor as they came up to him
with their prisoner.
"He's got a whole camp-fire in his little estomago," announced Chunky
solemnly, which sally elicited a loud laugh from the boys.
"Give him some olive oil," directed the Professor. "I think the lesson
has been sufficiently burned into him "
But considerable persuasion was necessary to induce Juan to take a
spoonful of the Professor's medicine. He had already had one sample of
it and he did not want another. Yet after some urging he tasted of the
oil, at first gingerly; then he took it down at a gulp.
"Ah!" he breathed.
"Is it good?" grinned Tad.
"Si. Much burn, much burn," he explained, rubbing his stomach.
"Think you want some liquor still, Juan, or would you prefer another
dose of my magic drops?"
"No, no, no, seņor!" cried Juan, hastily moving away from Professor
Zepplin.
"Very well; any time when you feel a longing for strong drink, just
help yourself to the hot drops," said the Professor, striding away to
his tent, medicine case in hand.
The guide, a much chastened man, set about assisting in getting the
evening meal, but the hot drops still remained with him, making their
presence known by occasional hot twinges.
Supper that night was an enjoyable affair, though it was observed that
the guide did not eat heartily.
"Do you think he really had a pain?" asked Walter confidentially,
leaning toward Ned.
"Pain? No. He wanted something else."
"And he got it," added Stacy, nodding solemnly.
A chorus of "he dids" ran around the table, stopping only when they
reached Juan himself.
CHAPTER III
INDIANS!
"Juan, did you see two men get off the train at Bluewater yesterday
when we did? One of them had a big, broad sombrero like mine?" asked
Tad, riding up beside the guide next day while they were crossing the
range.
"Si."
"Know them?"
"Si," he replied, holding up one finger.
"You mean you know one of them?"
The guide nodded.
"Who is he?"
"Seņor Lasar."
"Lasar. What's his other name?"
"Juan not know."
"Did they stop in the village?"
"No. Seņors get ponies, ride over mountain," and the guide pointed
lazily to the south-west.
"Where did they go? Do you know?"
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