Books: The Pony Rider Boys in New Mexico

F >> Frank Gee Patchin >> The Pony Rider Boys in New Mexico

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"The place is as much mine as it is yours," answered Lasar. "And I
propose to take it! If you'll make an even divvy of what you have
found, or expect to find, we'll go away and let you alone. If you
don't we'll take the whole outfit."

"Take it, take it!" jeered Marquand. "You couldn't take it in a
hundred years-- not unless you used artillery."

"Then we'll starve you out," replied the man in the sage brush.

"Look out!" warned the guide.

Mr. Marquand sprang to one side just as a volley crashed through the
opening, the bullets rattling to the floor after bounding back from
the flint-like walls.

"I guess they've got you, Mr. Marquand. We can't hold out forever. If
we had rifles we could pick them off by daylight. But when morning
comes they'll draw back out of revolver range and plunk the first man
who shows himself outside. Have you any title to this property?"

"Yes. I have bought up a hundred acres about here. The deeds are in my
pocket. I guess nobody has a better title.".

"His title is all right," spoke up Professor Zepplin. "I made sure of
that before I decided to come with Mr. Marquand."

"Then there's only one thing to be done."

"What's that?"

"Get a sheriff's posse and bag the whole bunch."

Mr. Marquand laughed harshly.

"If we were in a position to get a posse we should be able to get away
without one. I think we had better go below. This is not a very safe
place with this open window."

"I'll remain here."

"What for, Kringle?"

"Somebody's got to watch the front door to see that they don't play
any tricks on us. It's clouding up, and if the night gets dark they'll
try to get in."

"How far is it to a place where we could get a sheriff?" asked Tad,
who had been thinking deeply.

"Hondo. Fifteen miles due east of here as the moon rises. Why?"

"If I were sure I could find my way, I think I might get some help,"
answered the lad quietly.

"You!" snapped Mr. Marquand, turning on him.

"If I had a rope. Perhaps I can do it without one."

"I'd like to know how?"

Mr. Marquand was inclined to treat the proposition lightly, believing
that such a move as proposed by Tad Butler was an impossibility. Kris
Kringle, however, was regarding the boy inquiringly. He knew that Tad
had some plan in mind and that it was likely to be a good one.

"The rascals are all out in front of the house, aren't they?"

"Yes, Master Tad. There's no reason why they should be behind the
house. They know we can't get out that way; because there is no
opening on that side."

Tad nodded.

"Then I can do it."

"Tad, what foolish idea have you in mind now? I cannot consent to your
taking any more chances

"Professor, we are taking long enough chances as it is. Unless we are
relieved soon, we shall be starved out and perhaps worse."

"What's your plan?" interrupted Kris Kringle.

"See that hole in the roof up there?" Tad pointed.

They had not seen it before, but they did now. A light suddenly dawned
upon Kris Kringle.

"Boy, you are the only level-headed one in the outfit. You would have
made a corking Indian fighter."

"I'm the Indian fighter," chimed in Stacy.

"You can boost me up to the hole and I'll go over the rear of the
house, get to the camp and from there ride to Hondo."

Tad's three companions started a cheer, which the guide sternly put
down.

"I can't consent to any such plan," decided the Professor sternly.

The rest reasoned with him until, finally, he did consent, though he
knew the lad would be taking desperate chances. Tad understood that as
well as the rest of them, but he was burning to be off.

Kris Kringle gave him careful directions as to how to get to the
place.

"Take your rifle with you, if you can get it. After you get half a
mile or a mile away shoot once. That will tell us you are all right."

"You can help me in getting away from here, if you will do some
shooting to cover my escape," suggested Tad.

"That's a good idea," agreed the guide. "You wait on the roof until we
begin to rake the sage with our revolvers. Then drop. Take a wide
circuit, so that you won't stumble over the enemy."

Tad gave his belt a hitch, stuffed his sombrero under it and announced
himself as ready.

The guide stepped under the hole. Tad quickly climbed to his shoulder
and stood up like a circus performer. He could easily reach the roof
with his hands. A second more and his feet were lifted from the
shoulders of the guide. They saw the figure in the opening; then it
disappeared.

A slight scraping noise was the only sound they heard.

Tad flattened himself out and wriggled along toward the rear of the
roof. Peering over the edge he made sure that there was no one about.
He then lay quietly waiting for the shooting to begin.

"Let 'em have it," directed Kris Kringle.

A sudden fusillade was emptied into the sage brush.

Tad swung himself over the edge of the roof, hung on for a few
seconds, then dropped lightly to the ground.

CHAPTER XXlV

CONCLUSION

The enemy answered the shots with a volley, and for a few moments a
lot of ammunition was wasted while the odor of gunpowder assailed
nostrils on both sides.

After that, the shooting died away. As the minutes lengthened into an
hour, and no word of Tad's mission had been received, the defenders
began to grow restless. They were under a double tension now. Mr.
Marquand was pacing up and down the floor.

Suddenly, forgetful of the danger that lurked out there, he poked his
head out of the window.

A sharp pat on the stone window frame beside him, after the bullet had
snipped off the tip of his left ear, caused Mr. Marquand to draw back
suddenly. He stalked about the floor, holding a handkerchief to the
wounded ear, "talking in dashes and asterisks," as Chunky put it.

Kris Kringle's face wore a grim smile. He was taking chances of being
shot, every second now, but he insisted in holding his place at the
side of the window so he could listen and watch.

A thin, fleecy veil covered the moon, but it was not dense enough to
fully hide objects on the landscape.

"All keep quiet, now," warned Kris Kringle. "We should get a signal
pretty soon."

"I'm afraid something has happened to the boy," muttered the
Professor. Then all fell silent.

"There it goes!" exclaimed the guide in a tone of great relief.

The crack of a rifle afar off sounded clear and distinct.

"He's made it. Thank heaven!" breathed Mr. Marquand fervently.

Chunky leaped to the opening, swung his sombrero as he leaned out, and
uttered a long, shrill "y-e-o-w!"

A bullet chipped the adobe at his side. Stacy ducked, throwing himself
on the floor, sucking a thumb energetically.

"Wing you?" inquired Kris Kringle.

"Somebody burned my thumb," wailed the fat boy.

"It was a bullet that burned you. Served you right too. Somebody tie
that boy up or he'll be killed," counseled the guide.

The besiegers could not have failed to hear the shot from Tad's rifle,
but it did not seem to disturb them. They evidently did not even dream
that one of the party had escaped their vigilance and that he was well
on his way for assistance.

The wait from that time on was a tedious and trying one, though each
felt a certain sense of elation that Tad Butler had succeeded in
outwitting the enemy.

It was shortly after two o'clock in the morning when Kris Kringle
espied a party of horsemen slowly encircling the adobe house. The
riders were strung out far off on the plain. Those hiding in the sage
in front of the house could not see the approaching horsemen.

"There they come," whispered Kris Kringle. "Begin shooting!"

The two men started firing, while the besiegers poured volley after
volley through the window.

The posse at this, closed in at a gallop. Their rifles now began to
crash.

In a few minutes it was all over. The sheriff's men surrounded the
besiegers, placing every man of them under arrest. After this the
officers quickly liberated the Pony Rider Boys. Three of the besiegers
had been wounded. Among them, was the Mexican whom Tad had defeated in
the tilting game a few days before.

When all was over, the boys hoisted Tad Butler on their shoulders and
marched around the adobe house shouting and singing. Mr. Marquand
decided to go back with the posse, using these men as a guard for his
treasure. It was understood that the Pony Rider Boys were to follow
the next morning. Before leaving, Mr. Marquand called the Professor
aside.

"There is, on a rough estimate, all of sixty thousand dollars in the
treasure chest. Had it not been for you and your brave boys I should
have lost it. So, when you reach Hondo to-morrow, I shall take great
pleasure in presenting to each of you a draft for two thousand
dollars."

Professor Zepplin protested, but Mr. Marquand insisted, and he kept
his word. After the posse, with their prisoners and the treasure, had
started, the Pony Rider Boys, arm in arm, started off across the
moonlit meadows toward their camp. It was their last night in camp.
Their summer's journeyings had come to an end-- a fitting close to
their adventurous travels. Not a word did they speak until they
reached the camp. There, they turned and gazed off over the plain
which was all silvered under the now clear light of the moon.

"It has been a silver trail," mused Tad Butler.

"It has indeed," breathed his companions

"And we've reached the end of The Silver Trail," added the Professor,
coming up at that moment. "To-morrow I'll breathe the first free
breath that I've drawn in three months."

The boys circled slowly around him and joined hands. Then their voices
rose on the mellow desert air to the tune of

"Home, Sweet Home."

A week later saw the wanderers back in Chillicothe. Their welcome was
a warm one. Banker Perkins found his once ailing son now transformed
into a sturdy young giant.

We shall meet them again in the next volume of this series-- in a tale
of surpassing wonders-- published under the title: "THE PONY RIDER
BOYS IN THE GRAND CANYON; Or, the Mystery of Bright Angel Gulch." It
will be found to be by far the most interesting volume so far
published about the splendid Pony Rider Boys.

The End.

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