.. -*- encoding: utf-8 -*-

.. meta::
   :PG.Id: 50799
   :PG.Title: The River Motor Boat Boys on the Rio Grande
   :PG.Released: 2015-12-30
   :PG.Rights: Public Domain
   :PG.Producer: Roger Frank
   :PG.Producer: the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.bookcove.net
   :DC.Creator: Harry Gordon
   :DC.Title: The River Motor Boat Boys on the Rio Grande
              In Defense of the Rambler
   :DC.Language: en
   :DC.Created: 1915
   :coverpage: images/cover.jpg

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THE RIVER MOTOR BOAT BOYS ON THE RIO GRANDE
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   The sight they saw sent the boys off in peals of laughter.

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      The River Motor Boat Boys on the Rio Grande

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      In Defense of the Rambler

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   Harry Gordon

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      AUTHOR OF
      "The River Motor Boat Boys on the Amazon"
      "The River Motor Boat Boys on the Columbia"
      "The River Motor Boat Boys on the Mississippi"
      "The River Motor Boat Boys on the St. Lawrence"
      "The River Motor Boat Boys on the Ohio"
      "The River Motor Boat Boys on the Colorado"
      "The River Motor Boat Boys on the Yukon"

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      A. L. Burt Company
      New York

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   Copyright, 1915, by
   A. L. Burt Company

   PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.

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   CONTENTS

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   I. `A Call for Help`_
   II. `A Nest of Pirates`_
   III. `Alex Takes a Long Chance`_
   IV. `A Night on Shore`_
   V. `A Friend in Need`_
   VI. `Alex Gets a Square Meal`_
   VII. `Stolen—A Motor Boat`_
   VIII. `Alex Climbs a Tree`_
   IX. `The Rambler Heard From`_
   X. `A Bit of Dynamite`_
   XI. `Alex Goes Fishing`_
   XII. `A Queer Passenger`_
   XIII. `On the Mexican Side`_
   XIV. `A Serious Situation`_
   XV. `Dead in the Forest`_
   XVI. `Jule in Great Danger`_
   XVII. `On Mexican Soil Again`_
   XVIII. `A Slippery Customer`_
   XIX. `Rube Tells a Story`_
   XX. `Taken at Last`_
   XXI. `A Night of Watching`_
   XXII. `A Surprise for Clay`_
   XXIII. `What Came of a Ramble on Shore`_
   XXIV. `And the Last`_

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   THE RIVER MOTOR BOAT BOYS ON THE RIO GRANDE

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.. _`A CALL FOR HELP`:

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   CHAPTER I

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   A CALL FOR HELP

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“Listen, boys!”

There was silence for a moment, and then the
cry was repeated—a long, low, wailing call for help.

“It can’t be far away,” said the first speaker. “If
the water wouldn’t make such a racket, we might
locate it exactly. There! Sounds like the fellow
was about all in.”

A large white bulldog of most disreputable
appearance leaped to the railing of the motor boat
and stood looking into the waters of the Rio
Grande. In a moment the plea for assistance came
again, sounding fainter and farther away.

It was evident that the man, whoever it was, was
going down with the current. The dog glanced
questioningly into the face of the nearest boy as if
asking for instructions, and then leaped into the
river.

“What did you do that for?” demanded
Alexander Smithwick, throwing off his coat and shoes.

“What did I do?” demanded Julian Shafer, with
a wink. “Captain Joe asked permission to go to
the rescue, and took it for granted that it would be
given. Intelligent dog, Captain Joe! What’s he
up to now, I wonder?”

In a moment Alex, with one hand on the railing
which enclosed the deck of the motor boat, heard
the rattle of anchor chains and knew that the boat
was drifting downstream.

The boys called to the dog, but without avail.
Save for the rush of the river, all was still.
“Mighty strange!” Alex exclaimed.

Night had settled down on the Rio Grande, but
the electric lights shone far out on the stream,
revealing nothing!

When the motor boat reached the point from
which the cries had seemed, to come the anchor
was dropped again and the boys scanned both shore
lines eagerly, hoping, at least, to discover the white
form of the bulldog. It was not at all like Captain
Joe to remain silent under such conditions.

“What do you make of it?” asked Clayton
Emmett, in a tone of alarm. “Captain Joe never acted
like this before.”

“There’s something gone wrong with the dog!”
exclaimed Cornelius Witters, who was rather
inclined to look on the gloomy side of life. “He may
have been drowned.”

“Catch Captain Joe getting drowned!” cried Alex
Smithwick and Julian Shafer in a breath.

In a moment, however, Captain Joe was seen to
leave a great mass of rocks which stretched at least
a third of the way across the stream and strike out
for the motor boat.

“Did you lose him, Captain Joe?” Alex asked,
lowering a floating platform as he spoke in order
to give the dog access to the deck, at the same time
keeping out of reach of the torrent of river water
deposited on the deck by the dog.

“Where is the man you went after?” added
Julian Shafer, also taking good care to keep on the
other side of the deck.

The dog was evidently doing his best to convey
to the boys what knowledge he possessed regarding
the stranger who was, if still alive, somewhere out
in the night. For a time he met with scant success.

The boys listened intently, but there was only the
rush of the river and the wind sweeping down from
the mountains.

“Drop downstream to that ledge of rocks,”
advised Clayton Emmett. “If the fellow is still alive,
we’ll find him there.”

This proceeding apparently met with the hearty
approval of the bulldog, who was the first to gain
the rocky beach. Without loss of time he set off at
a swift pace and soon brought up beside the
prostrate figure of a lad who could not have been over
sixteen. Alex bent over the body with his
searchlight and made a hasty examination.

“Is he dead?” asked Cornelius Witters, known to
his chums as “Case.” “He certainly looks the part.”

Alex shook his head.

“Let’s get him to the motor boat,” he said, with
a shudder of horror. “Somewhere back in the
dark ages, before the dawn of civilization, there
may have been a kid more badly beaten up, but I
doubt it.”

“Well, I should say so!” Jule cut in. “Looks
like he had been run through a sausage mill!
Where’s the fellow who did it?”

“Search me!” replied Alex. “The thing to do
now, it strikes me, is to get the poor fellow where
he can receive the attention of a surgeon. I
wonder if one is to be found in this neck-o’-the-woods?”

“There are plenty of towns along the river,”
Clayton Emmett suggested, “and there must be a
surgeon in some of them; but his injuries may not
be so serious as they appear to be at first glance.
Perhaps it may be well to get the stretcher,” he
added, as the boys gathered in an awed group about
the silent figure.

Jule darted away to bring the stretcher, while
the other boys made a rough examination of the
injured boy’s wounds. His head was one mass of
bruises, and his left leg seemed to be broken. He
was still unconscious, and the only wonder was that
a person so battered and beaten should be capable
of uttering the cries which had brought the dog to
his assistance.

Presently Alex and Case, leaving Clay to watch
beside the stranger, climbed an almost
perpendicular wall of rock and, with the aid of their
searchlights, looked down the narrow neck of land which
connected with the shore.

The searchlights illuminated the scene only
faintly. The night was very dark, and the rays of light
traveled only a short distance before becoming
absorbed by the shadows which shut out the
landscape.

“It’s darker than a stack of black cats!” said
Alex, after a moment’s inspection of the scene.
“We may as well be on our way back.”

The boys started back in the direction of the boat,
but came to a halt at the sound of a low, whining
cry which seemed to come from behind a ridge of
rocks off to the left.

“What’s coming off now?” Alex exclaimed,
turning his searchlight in the direction of the sound.
“Hope it isn’t anything that will bite! Come out
of that, you rascal!”

But whatever it was it did not seem inclined to
obey the command, so Alex dashed off on an
exploring trip.

“Come back, you mutton head!” shouted Case.
“That may be a fake to lure us into a trap!”

But Alex’s searchlight was by this time out of
sight around a corner of rock and Case followed on
behind. After making his way, not without
difficulty, along a shelf of rock Case came to a pit-like
depression, and, looking down, caught a glimpse of
his chum’s light.

The lad was bending over some object which was
lying on the ground, and appeared to be preparing
to take it into his arms. Case was at his side in
short order.

“What have you got, Alex?” he asked. “Looks
like a black cat! It takes you to keep the
menagerie from growing shy!”

As Alex lifted the object in his arms, however,
Case saw that it was a bear cub—certainly not
more than a month old—a black bear cub who
looked into the faces of the lads with an appeal
which was not to be resisted! It softened Case’s
heart in an instant.

“Now, what do you know about that!” Case
exclaimed. “Wonder if his mother is anywhere
around?”

“She’d be very much in evidence by this time if
she was,” replied Alex, hugging the cub. “My!”
he continued, as his hands came in contact with the
ribs of the cub, “I reckon a square meal wouldn’t
come amiss right now! Here, you little cannibal,
quit eating my ear!”

“I’d like to know what Captain Joe will say about
this,” laughed Case. “He’ll want to make one bite
of the cub!”

“Just let me catch him at it!” exclaimed Alex.

When, after rather a long, hard tramp, the boys,
still carrying the baby bear, came in view of the
place where Clay had been left they saw at once
that something was amiss. Clay was nowhere in
sight, and Captain Joe, usually the most faithful
of sentinels, was not to be seen. The stranger still
lay where he had been placed, gazing up into
darkness with swollen eyes!

It took only a minute for the lads to reach his
side. He made an effort to arise to a sitting position
as they came running up, but fell weakly back
with a groan of agony.

“What’s up?” asked Case.

The lad turned his head in order to get a good
view of his questioner before making any reply
whatever. Under the searchlights his face seemed
beaten to a pulp.

Then Alex remembered that the boy had not
regained consciousness at the time of their departure,
and hastened to make the proper explanation. The
boy again attempted a sitting posture and again
failed.

Case knelt by the side of the wounded boy.

“Do you wish to say something?” he asked.

“Ask him where Clay went,” suggested Alex,
keeping the baby bear in his arms.

“I don’t know,” replied the boy, answering the
question asked by Alex. “When I came to
consciousness there was a white bulldog drawing me
out of the river.”

“And is that the last you remember?” questioned
Case.

“Yes.”

“And so Captain Joe fished you out of the drink.
Where did he go after that?”

“I did not see him go anywhere. I fainted, I
guess.”

Alex examined the boy’s clothing and found it
wet.

“The lad is right about the river,” he declared.
“The boy must have been swept past our boat. It
is a wonder none of us saw him.”

“Unless he drifted into the circle of light thrown
out by the cabin windows,” Case cut in, “we should
not have seen him.”

“Captain Joe certainly did a good job in making
the rescue,” Alex added. “How long were you in
the water, stranger?”

“When I drifted by the motor boat,” replied the
boy, “I tried to catch hold of a rope, but was too
weak and dazed from the beating I had received.
If the dog hadn’t found me just as he did, I should
have floated on down the river and drowned.”

“Good old Captain Joe!” Alex exclaimed.
“Somehow he is always to the front!”

“There is a gang of robbers up the river about
a mile,” said the lad, evidently speaking in great
pain. “If you came down the river in a boat, you
ought to be looking after her. They are bad men.
The marks of their treatment of me are still in
sight,” he added, smiling faintly. “They beat me
because I refused to deliver my boat to them. Well,
they have it now, but they had to fight for it,” he
added.

“Wonder we didn’t see them when we came
down,” said Case, hastily getting to his feet. “For
all we know, they may be already in possession of
the *Rambler*!”

“The *Rambler* is too nice a boat for that gang
of toughs to ride in,” declared the stranger. “You
see,” he continued, “that I know all about you
boys. I am from Chicago myself!”

Anxious as the boys were to learn more about
the lad so strangely met, and to relieve his
sufferings, they had other things of more importance, at
least to themselves, to look after.

Alex, still carrying the baby bear, was off like
a shot and Case was not far behind him. The Rio
Grande was but a short distance away, but there
was a wall of rocks which must be passed before
the river came into view.

When at last the boys gained the top of the
elevation and flashed their lights down upon the
wind-swept stream, the *Rambler* was nowhere to be seen!

“Just our luck!” grumbled Case.

Alex, still holding the baby bear, wrinkled his
nose.

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.. _`A NEST OF PIRATES`:

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   CHAPTER II

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   A NEST OF PIRATES

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To those who have read the books of this series
already published the boys of the *Rambler* will
need no introduction. Their adventures on the
Amazon, the Columbia, the Colorado, the
Mississippi, the St Lawrence, the Ohio, and the Yukon
will be readily recalled to mind.

Coming originally from the south branch of the
Chicago river, they had accumulated handsome
fortunes during their journeys in quest of adventure,
but they still saw the world through boys’ eyes,
and were not satisfied to settle down to a humdrum
life.

The *Rambler*, as will doubtless be remembered,
was a very speedy boat, fitted up with electric lights
and all modern conveniences. She carried an armor
of chilled steel underneath as pretty a coat of paint
as was ever sent out of the port of Chicago.

This trip down the Rio Grande had long been
planned, and now that it was actually begun the
lads were jubilant. They had been warned time
and again against the uprisings for which Mexico
is noted, but, boy-like, they had disregarded them.

The *Rambler* had been shipped to Wason on the
Denver & Rio Grande, and the journey was on!
This town lies some distance east from Silverton,
and is surrounded on the north, west and south
by the mountains which form a part of the great
continental divide.

As Alex and Case stood now, on the bank of the
Rio Grande, their hearts were very heavy.

“If we only knew that Clay and Jule were safe,”
Alex finally said, “we could endure the loss of the
*Rambler*. Where do you think they have gone.
Mister Teddy Bear, Junior?” he added whimsically,
addressing the cub. “I’ll bet you’d tell me if you
could!”

But the cub nestled closer to the neck of the boy
and not being in a conversational mood said nothing
at all!

“We may as well return to where the injured boy
was left,” Case suggested in a moment. “The boys
will know where to find us, at least, if we go there,
which is more than can be said of any other
locality. Just our rotten luck to have Captain Joe find
that boy when we haven’t got a thing to give him
that might add to his comfort!”

“Kick!” laughed Alex. “You’d kick on a
mouthful of pie! Say, how would a piece of apple pie go
right about now? I’m hungry enough to eat one
of those pirates, boots and all!”

“You are likely to be a great deal hungrier before
you come upon anything to eat in this rotten hole!”
grumbled Case, setting off for the designated spot
at a fast walk.

Alex, however, remained behind, in the hope of
catching a glimpse of the lights of the *Rambler*. It
was very dark outside the small circle of light
thrown out by the searchlight, and the wind was
blowing great guns. It was as wild a night as ever
blew over the Colorado hills.

As if to heighten the discomfort of the time, a
cold rain began to fall in great gusts, sweeping
everything movable before it. Alex was soon wet
to the skin.

“How’s this for a storm, Mister Teddy Bear,
Junior? said the boy, addressing the cub. “There’s
one thing been overlooked, though,” he added, “and
that’s a little thunder and lightning. There
certainly ought to be a batch of thunder and lightning
with a peach of a storm like this, don’t you think,
Teddy?”

But Teddy did not have an opportunity to
express his thoughts on the subject, if he had any,
for just at that instant there came a blinding flash
of lightning, followed immediately by a peal of
thunder which seemed to shake the solid earth.

“Whew, but that was a corker!” cried the boy.
“Wonder if I’m all here?”

But Alex had no time to consider this last
conundrum, for just at that minute the lights of the
*Rambler* made their appearance, coming up the
stream. Alex had no means of knowing, of course,
whether she was manned by friend or foe, so he
switched off his electric and stood on the bank
waiting in the wind and rain.

Directly the motor boat came to a halt at the side
of a little rocky projection which extended into the
stream for some distance, and the boy was no longer
in doubt as to the character of the crew.

A frowsy head appeared above the rail of the
boat and a hoarse voice demanded:

“Who’s there?”

It was clear that the *Rambler* was in the
possession of the pirates! Alex stood mute, awaiting
developments.

Presently the low murmur of voices was heard,
seeming to come from the shore, and Alex listened
eagerly, but could not distinguish the voices. At
times he was almost certain that the speakers were
Clay and Jule, but the wind carried their voices
downstream, and he could not be certain. He
listened intently, listening at the same time, too, for
the sound of advancing footsteps.

But the rush of the wind, the downpour of the
rain effectually drowned all other sounds save at
rare intervals. The frowsy head, evidently gaining
courage, now spoke again.

“Whoever you are, come aboard!” the voice said.

There came a lull in the storm, and Alex was
positive that the voices he heard were those of Clay
and Jule; still he could not afford to make a
mistake. So he waited.

The man on the deck of the *Rambler* either left
his position or got out of sight behind the railing,
for he was no longer to be seen. For a time all
was still, then a voice which appeared to come from
the *Rambler* rang out, causing Alex to almost drop
the baby bear in his excitement. He knew that
voice!

During the long winter evenings in Chicago Jule
had made a study of ventriloquism, and had
become such an adept that his voice could be heard
for a long distance. Although standing within ten
feet of Alex, the voice apparently came from the
*Rambler*’s deck.

“What are you doing on my boat?” the voice
demanded.

There was a great bustle aboard the motor boat,
as if search was being made for the speaker,
followed by a fluttering of wings and a hoarse,
croaking voice:

“What’s coming off here?” were the words
spoken.

“That’s Tommy!” said a voice at Alex’s side, and
Clay made his appearance in the faint light thrown
from the cabin windows.

“Where have you been?” demanded Alex,
speaking in a voice loud enough to be heard above the
rush of the storm. “Thought sure you had been
carried off by the robbers.”

“The pirates already had possession of the boat
when I reached the shore,” Jule explained, “and
when Clay came we both followed on down the
river in the hope that something would happen to
again put us in possession. Say! Just listen to
Tommy’s conversation! He thinks he is the whole
works! He has a horror of being awakened
suddenly.”

“Tommy” was a great red and green parrot, who
had evidently been sound asleep during the short
trip down the river. He was making up for lost
time now, however, making the boat ring with his
screams.

Presently a man’s form shot out of the cabin as
if fired out of a gun, with the parrot astride of his
shoulders! The red and green feathers of the bird
shone and glistened under the electric light, the long
tail trailed out behind like the tail of a comet, while
the topknot was very much in evidence, standing up
straight and rigid.

The man thus attacked gave utterance to a string
of oaths and billingsgate which would have made a
fishwife green with envy.

“The bloomin’ bird is clawin’ me eyes out!” he
shouted, doing his best to dislodge the bird. “Take
’im off, someone!”

By this time two other men were on deck,
struggling with Tommy, who did not seem at all
inclined to release the excellent hold which he secured
in the hair of the robber. At last, however, he was
dislodged, and secreted himself behind a chest of
drawers in the cabin.

“I’ll ’ave ’is bloody life!” shouted the fellow,
starting away in pursuit, but a chum blocked his
entrance to the cabin.

“Have it out with the bird some other time,” he
advised, with a broad smile. “Just now we have
other fish to fry. We came back to get a kid what
can operate this boat. There’s something wrong
with the motors. We got it up the river as far as
this, and that’s about all, consarn the luck!”

“Try him again with your Peter Pratt,” advised
Clay, having reference to the boy’s trick of
throwing his voice. Whenever this faculty was
referred to by any of the lads it was invariably known as
“Peter Pratt.” “Let’s see what Peter Pratt can do
for us in the way of getting possession of the
*Rambler*.”

Jule threw his voice across the rushing, water
again, but no attention whatever was paid to it.

“That’s strange!” said Alex.

“They evidently believe it to be the parrot!” said
Jule.

“Of course you are right,” admitted Clay. “It
is a wonder we didn’t think of that before.”

The robbers now appeared to be holding a
consultation as to the best means of getting one of the
boys on board the *Rambler*. The boys could not
catch a word, although the *Rambler* lay only a few
feet from the shore.

The thunder and lightning were now almost
continuous, and the robbers sought shelter in the cabin.

“Now’s our opportunity,” exclaimed Jule.

“I must be pretty dense,” said Clay. “If there’s
a chance here I must have overlooked it.”

“What’s the matter with the stern deck?”
ventured Jule. “I’ve known kids to get on board boats
in that way before now!”

“Not in the face of a current like that!” replied
Clay. “A boy couldn’t swim in that millrace any
more than he could fly!”

“You just wait a second and I’ll show you!”
replied Jule. “Anybody got a rope or a strong cord?”

“Alex has,” responded Clay. “I saw him put one
into his pocket! Produce it, Alex!” he added, all
excitement at the prospect of getting the best of the
pirates.

“Who’s going to make the attempt?” Jule asked.

Alex deposited the baby bear in Clay’s arms.

“Here,” he said, “you take charge of Teddy, Jr.,
and I’ll do the trick myself. You fellows couldn’t
make the riffle in a thousand years! This is a man’s
job!”

As Alex had kept the cub in a measure protected
from the storm by his coat, and as the cub had
remained perfectly quiet during this conversation,
Clay was greatly surprised at being presented with
a baby bear. He made a quick examination of his
charge and then burst into a hearty laugh. Alex
proceeded to unwind his fish line as if the
presentation of a cub was the most natural thing in the
world.

Jule stepped to Clay’s side and gravely shook
hands with the bear after locating him in the
darkness.

“Where did you get the cub?” he asked.

“Oh, I presume he picked it off a bush!” Clay cut
in. “Alex has an affinity for bears.”

“He’s making too much noise,” Jule asserted, as
the cub set up a wail which might have been heard
on the *Rambler*. “Better let me take that line,
Alex, while you teach your baby manners.”

“Mind the nerve of him! Talking about a man’s
job!” laughed Clay. “If I had his good opinion of
himself, I’d walk on the water out to the *Rambler*.”
“Yes, you would!” commented Alex, throwing
off his outer garments preparatory to entering the
river. “If you don’t take good care of that cub,
I’ll set him on you when you come aboard.”

The boys now carried the fish line up the stream
a short distance and Alex entered the water. In
order to gain the stem deck it would be necessary
to follow the motions of the swimmer until the
stem was reached and then release the line, trusting
to the dexterity of the boy in the water to make
connection with the hull of the boat.

“Now, boys!” cried Alex, and the next he was
feeling the draw of the current.

The moment the lad was in the water the bulldog
sprang in after him. Jule tried in vain to coax him
to return to the shore, but Captain Joe was
obstinate and paid no attention to the entreaties and
threats of the boy. The dog soon was abreast of
the boy, swimming with his head well down in the
water.

In the meantime Jule was having about all he
could do following Alex with his eyes, for the light
from the cabin windows was uncertain and the great
prow light had been extinguished.

“It’s a wonder that Tommy keeps so quiet,” said
Clay, holding to the bear cub with one hand and
pulling at the line with the other. “He is usually
very much in evidence if awakened in the night.”

“Here’s hoping he has the good sense to remain
quiet until Alex is on board,” added Jule. “The
parrot may have been killed, for all we know! If
he has, there’ll be doings when we get aboard!”

By this time the lights of the cabin were about
opposite, and the boys on shore slackened their pace
in order to give Alex an opportunity to gain the
stem deck, which was, of course, downstream.

They saw very dimly indeed, for the rain was
now falling in great sheets, obscuring the light from
the cabin windows, and making the stem deck very
slippery.

“Can you see where he is?” asked Clay.

“I can see that the line has slackened, and that is
about all,” replied the boy. “I wonder where
Captain Joe is?” Jule added, tossing the fish line to
one side. “He ought to be getting into action pretty
soon. There he is now!”

The voice of the dog came faintly through the
storm, and the screaming of the parrot added to the
din.

“I’d give a hundred dollars to know exactly how
things stand!” shouted Clay, dancing up and down
in the excitement of the moment.

“That was a fool venture of Alex’s,” was Jule’s
comment.

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.. _`ALEX TAKES A LONG CHANCE`:

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   CHAPTER III

.. class:: center medium

   ALEX TAKES A LONG CHANCE

.. vspace:: 2

Case sat for a long time at the side of the
injured boy, doing what he could to relieve his
suffering, but there was little he could do in the
absence of a surgeon. The boy was in great pain and
conversed only at long intervals.

“I presume the robbers have taken possession of
the *Rambler*,” said Case, crouching low to escape
as much of the storm as possible, “and they may
have carried Jule and Clay off with her, but I don’t
see what is keeping Alex. He should have been
here a long time ago.”

“They may have taken him, too,” said the
sufferer. “In that case we may stay here until we
starve to death. If I could only walk, I’d soon get
out of this!”

“What’s your name, and how is it that you come
to be here on the Great Divide?” Case asked
abruptly. “You’re a beauty, I must say!” he added with
a grin.

“My name is Paul Stegman, and I’m from
Chicago, as I told you before,” the boy explained. “I
came up here in quest of adventure, and reckon
I’m getting enough of it. If I ever get back to
civilization you just bet your bottom dollar I’ll stay
there!”

“Cheer up!” said Case, “the worst is yet to
come!”

“I fail to see how it could be much worse,” said
Paul. “My boat is gone and, unless we can connect
with the one you have, there are mountains to
climb before we get out of here.”

“It does look pretty dark,” Case admitted, “but
we’ll find a way out. Suppose I go down to the
river and see what’s keeping Alex? The pirates
haven’t captured him, I hope!”

“It’s pretty dark. And pretty wet, too,” replied
Paul, loath to lose Case’s companionship for even
a minute. “Perhaps he will come back after he has
failed to discover the boys.”

Case had his doubts about Alex returning as long
as there was any prospect of finding either the boys
or the *Rambler*, but he kept his thoughts to
himself. It was very dark when the searchlight was
for a moment turned aside, and rain was falling in
torrents. The wind, too, was racing over the
narrow point of land as if sent for by the Evil One.

It was a wild night for early May, and Case,
sitting dejectedly at the side of Paul Stegman, could
feel the rain trickling down the back of his neck
in streams. It was cold too, and the teeth of both
boys rattled like castanets.

“No use trying to build a fire,” Case grumbled,
“for what little wood there is in sight is soaking
wet. I guess the *Rambler* made one trip too many!”

There was silence for a minute and then a
footfall was heard on the rocky ridge which ran through
the center of the peninsula.

“Alex at last!” shouted Case, springing to his
feet. “Come forward, give an account of
yourself! Did you find any trace of the boys or the
boat?”

But the man who appeared a moment later was
not Alex. He stood for a second looking down on
the boys and started to join them, swinging a pocket
dark-lantern as he advanced. But Case was shy
of strangers and ordered the fellow back, at the
same time switching off his searchlight.

“Oh, all right!” replied the stranger. “I thought
you might be in some sort o’ trouble and might need
help.”

“We are in trouble, and do need help,” Case
answered, “but we mean to make sure first that you
are just what you pretend to be.”

“I hain’t purtended to anything yet,” was the
reply. “If you want my pedigree, I reckon you’ll
have to want. I came down here lookin’ for a
brindle steer what strayed away from the herd an’
saw your light, likewise the light from that boat
anchored out there in the river. But, still, if you
don’t want me to butt in, I’ll be joggin’ along.”

“Wait a minute,” Case exclaimed, starting to
climb the ridge, “do you say there’s a boat out there
in the river?”

“Come up here and see for yourself; seein’ is
believin’, as the cat said to the mouse.”

Case clambered to the top of the ridge and looked
out upon the river. There were the dim lights of
the *Rambler*, but the rest of the scene could not be
discerned.

“The boat’s there, all right!” the boy said
jubilantly, hopping up and down in his excitement.
“The boys will soon be here now.”

Case looked into the stranger’s face with a
question on his lips—a question he might or might not
answer.

“You didn’t come to this rocky place in quest of
any brindle steer,” the boy ventured. “Will you
tell me what you did come for?”

“Perhaps I’ll do it if you’ll tell me what I want
to know,” was the reply, “and that is this: What
were you doing with that wounded boy in that nest
of rocks?”

“You know the lad is wounded, then?”

“I don’t suppose you could hear much in this
storm, but I’ve walked twice around the spot where
you sat,” was the reply.

“Well, you didn’t hear anything of any account,”
was Case’s reply. “Up to two hours ago I didn’t
know there was such a kid living. According to
his story, he was set upon by robbers a short
distance up the river and beaten up proper.”

“So!” said the other.

“We, my three chums and myself, were lying up
the river, anchored, when Captain Joe—that’s the
bulldog—leaped into the river and brought him out,
more dead than alive. The dog is on the *Rambler*
now. We boys wouldn’t part with Captain Joe for
his weight in gold.”

The man looked thoughtfully into the boy’s eyes.

“I guess,” he began, but was interrupted by voices
coming from the *Rambler*. The wind was now
blowing a fierce gale and the words were
indistinguishable, but words were not needed.

The prow lights flared up, lighting the deck of
the boat as thoroughly as it was possible to do it in
the dead of the night.

At the same instant the watchers caught sight of
a man leaping over the railing of the boat.

“There goes one of the pirates!” shouted Case.
“I wonder how many of them there are?”

“Perhaps he thinks it’s just as dry in the river
as it is on board the boat,” the other said with a
chuckle, “and I for one think he’s about right.
Here comes another.”

When three had taken to the water there came a
lull in the procession of jumpers and Case observed:
“Now we’ll soon be tucked up in our little beds,
that is as soon as we get Paul cared for.”

“Suppose the robbers return?” the stranger
suggested.

“They’ll have to be pretty swift in their
movements if they connect with the *Rambler*,”
Case answered. “We’ve got a boat that can go some, and
then some more!”

The two then descended the ridge and were soon
standing where Paul had been left. The boy was
still in great pain from his broken leg.

“This boy shouldn’t lie here in the storm,” said
the stranger. “He’ll take the newmonnie.”

“He’ll not remain here long now,” replied Case,
with a smile at the man’s pronunciation of “pneumonia,”
“for we’ll get him to the *Rambler* in short
order. We must get him to a surgeon.”

“I thought you’d never come,” groaned Paul.

“It’s all right now,” Case assured the boy.

“Wait until the boys come with the stretcher, and
we’ll have you where you can receive the care of
a doctor in three jerks of a lamb’s tail.”

Clay soon appeared with the stretcher and the
injured lad was carefully placed upon it. Then
Clay turned to Case with a smile.

“Why don’t you introduce me?” he asked.

Case hesitated and the stranger came forward.

“I reckon we don’t either one know what to call
the other,” he said with a smile. “I’m Rube Stagg.”

“Glad to know you, Mr. Stagg,” said Clay with
a laugh at the odd appearance of the man.

He was at least six feet four inches tall, lean to
emaciation, with enormous hands and feet, and just
about the reddest and longest head of hair that the
lads had ever seen. It came far down on his
shoulders and was so tossed about by the wind that
it appeared to be in one great snarl.

His eyes were blue and bright, his nose blunt
stub, and his head was adorned with a pair of
enormous ears. His dress was of the sort usually
worn by ranchmen.

“I’ve got a ranch over here a short distance,”
explained Mr. Stagg, “and you are quite welcome to
use it if you feel so disposed. That boy has been
exposed to the storm too long already.”

“We’ll have him under shelter directly,” was
Case’s reply, “but we’re a thousand times obliged
to you, all the same.”

“Well,” Stagg replied, “if you won’t use my
shack, perhaps you won’t object to my carrying one
end of the stretcher.”

“You are all right, Mr. Stagg,” said Clay,
heartily. “We are a little short-handed on account of
leaving two boys at the boat.”

“What was the ruction at the boat?” Case asked.

Clay burst into a ringing laugh.

“That was the funniest thing I ever saw!” he
said as they set the stretcher down for a rest.
“Alex, the little monkey, sneaked on board the
*Rambler* when an especially hard shower came on,
accompanied by thunder and lightning. Captain
Joe was with him, as usual, and when they came
to the window which looks out on the stern deck
the parrot joined the combination.”

“Great combination, that!” laughed Case. “A
boy full of mischief, a bulldog full of bites, and a
parrot full of the old Nick! What happened then?
Did the pirates take to the river as soon as they
saw what they were up against?”

“No, they attempted to put up a fight,” replied
Clay, “and what followed was a jumble of legs,
arms, parrot and bulldog. The parrot screamed
and the dog got in his work on the shins of the
outlaws, who had laid their weapons aside in order
to dry their clothing and couldn’t get them without
coming in contact with the dog.”

“Must have been very funny,” said Case. “I
should have enjoyed seeing it.”

“I imagine the bandits thought the devil was after
them for sure. How that parrot did scream! The
racket might have been heard a mile away only for
the wind and rain. How it did rain! And thunder
and lightning! Say but it was fierce!”

“And where was the baby bear all this time?”
Case asked. “Of course you knew that Alex
adopted another bear?”

“Yes, I’m wise to the fact,” answered Clay.
“Well, the cub was asleep under my coat until the
fireworks started, then he took a hand in the game.
It certainly was comical to see that little runt trying
to eat a full-sized robber.”

The boys now continued their progress to the
*Rambler*, and soon saw the cabin lights shining
through the rain. As the lads neared the boat the
great prow light was switched on, making
everything as light as day. The rain was still falling in
torrents, and the wind was blowing a hurricane.

In fact, the boys were obliged to stand pretty
close together in order to make themselves heard
at all.

“It’s a wonder the boys didn’t think of that prow
light before,” was Case’s comment as they laid the
stretcher down on the shore.

“It was out of kilter when I left the boat,” said
Clay. “What is bothering me now is how to get
this boy on board the boat. I don’t think we can
get the boat any nearer to the land.”

“We must manage it, in some way, before long,
for the lad has been exposed to the storm for a
long time.”

“Why, of course we can get him over to the
*Rambler*,” cut in Case. “You have only to lift the
stretcher into the rowboat, then lift it out again
when we reach the *Rambler*!”

“Never thought of that!” laughed Clay. “Two
heads are better than one, if one is a bit thick!”

“Anything to get me out of this storm!” groaned
Paul. “I don’t think I shall ever be warm again.”

While the boys were getting Paul on board the
*Rambler* Stagg appeared to be very busy about the
boy’s head. More than once he bent over the lad,
as if trying to recognize him, but the boy was too
badly beaten up for that.

At last he seemed to give it up, but there was still
a look of inquiry in his eyes, and Clay referred
to it.

“He acts to me like he was looking for a friend,”
he said.

“He does act rather strangely,” was Case’s
comment. “Still, he may be one of the curious kind.”

No more was said on the subject at that time,
though Clay often wondered if there could be any
connection between the two, and also if Mr. Stagg
was exactly what he seemed.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`A NIGHT ON SHORE`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER IV

.. class:: center medium

   A NIGHT ON SHORE

.. vspace:: 2

The boys had a hard time getting on board the
*Rambler*, but it was accomplished at last, and the
sufferer was soon in one of the bunks. Then the
boat was headed downstream.

Mr. Stagg was left standing on the river bank in
the rain. The boys invited him on board, but he
explained that he was determined to “get that pesky
steer before he went home.”

“It’s a wild night to be hunting for cattle,” Clay
suggested as the boat was got under way, “but we
all hope you’ll find it.”

“Say,” said Alex, as the boat started
downstream, “do you believe the story that man told?”

“Seems like an honest fellow,” was Jule’s reply,
“but one can never tell. To tell the truth, he looked
to me more like an outlaw than any fellow we
caught on board.”

“Pretty fierce night to be hunting cattle,”
commented Alex, and the discussion was dropped.

“How far is it to the Hayes Junction?” asked
Case. “We can’t get a surgeon to set that broken
leg until we get there, and perhaps not then. I
think I’ll study surgery, just to be ready for any
emergency, when I go to college,” added the boy.

“We’ve got quite a distance to travel before we
reach Hayes, and I suggest that we put in the time
eating,” said Alex. “I wouldn’t want to get a
regular meal,” he continued, “just a large steak and
French fried potatoes, and bread and butter, and
a couple of pies, and a couple of dozen doughnuts.
Just a light luncheon!”

“When the time comes for you to die,” Case
observed, with a wink at Jule, “you’ll die of
starvation because of having swept the world slick and
clear of food.”

“Go ahead and get up your light luncheon,” Jule
advised. “I think I could take a little nourishment
myself.”

“Oh, well, if you’re going to get up a simple
luncheon like you suggest, I don’t know but I’ll take
a light snack myself,” said Case, his mouth
watering at the mention of pie.

“How’ll you have the steak cooked?” asked Alex.

“When it comes to cooking steak,” Jule cut in,
“I’ve got the crowd up a blind siding with fires
banked.”

“That comes pretty near being slang,” Clay
laughed, putting his head in at the cabin door. “I
can see someone washing the supper dishes right
now.”

While this conversation was going on Paul
Stegman, worn out by pain and exposure, was sleeping
soundly. At first the boys talked in whispers, but
they soon saw that it was a useless precaution, as
the roaring of the storm drowned all lesser sounds.

Nothing more was heard of the robbers at that
time. The boys believed them to be tramps, and so
put them out of their minds. How wrong they
were in this the future will show.

The sky cleared shortly, just as the town of
Hayes came into view. There was not much of the
place—which was little better than a railroad
crossing.

Paul still slept soundly, and the boys decided to
wait until he awoke before looking over the town
for a surgeon.

The steak and potatoes being done to a turn, the
boys fell to with appetites sharpened by the keen
air.

“Pie,” declared Alex, “is Nature’s best gift to
man! There is green apple pie, dried apple pie, red
apple pie, and pie-pie. Pie has all other food on its
back with its tongue out!”

“When you get to pie,” Jule cut in, “you’re
always due for a eulogy. If I had the appetite for
pie that you have, I’d feed it to the bears! By the
way,” he exclaimed, bounding up from the table,
“where is Teddy, Junior? Why isn’t he out here
getting filled up?”

The boy shot away like he had only a second
more to live, but soon returned with the
announcement that the baby bear was lying on his belly
snoring “to beat the band!”

“Who’s got the job of washing the supper
dishes?” asked Alex, rolling back in his chair with
the air of a millionaire. “Who talked the most
slang to-day?”

“Jule did,” declared Case.

“I should say not!” denied that lad. “If I could
talk slang equal to Alex, I’d give the slang
dictionary cards and spades and then win out! He’s got
a tongue that whirls round and round like a puppy
after his tail. The idea of putting me in his class!”

“In order to settle this dispute amicably,”
interrupted Clay, “I propose that the boys both tackle
the job. They have both been talking slang all
day.”

“All right!” consented Jule. “Only you don’t
want to forget and leave any pie on the plates.”

“If I had your mouth for pie——”

Alex began, but checked himself before
completing the sentence—much to Jule’s disappointment.

The boys had a merry time over the dishes, and
then Clay and Case went to bed, leaving Alex and
Jule to watch the *Rambler* during the remainder of
the night. In a short time all was still on board.
The storm which had driven so fiercely against the
motor boat in the early part of the night had now
passed over, leaving a rim of moon in the west.

Directly Alex passed out of the cabin and stood
on the deck. Jule was half asleep in the cabin.

For a time there was only the roaring of the
river to break the silence. The wind had died
down to a gentle breeze, and there was the scent
of spring in the air.

Captain Joe came out on deck after a time and
sniffed the air excitedly. In a moment he was on
the railing of the boat, looking over to the west
shore. Alex spoke to him, but for once his words
received no attention.

“What is it, Joe?” asked the boy.

Captain Joe only wagged his stumpy tail.

“I’ll soon find out what’s doing here!” decided
Alex. “How would you like a run on shore,
Captain Joe?” the boy went on. “It ain’t a very swell
night for a ramble, but I feel as if my legs wouldn’t
be the worse for a little stretching.”

Jule was below, in the cabin, and there could be
no possible harm, the boy thought, in leaving the
watch to him. Therefore he took the rowboat and
started for the shore, accompanied by the dog, who
seemed very anxious to get to the land.

The moon was setting, but the stars were out,
and the boy and the dog had little difficulty in
finding their way after gaining the shore. The latter,
however, after hastily sniffing the air for an
instant, darted away, leaving the boy alone.

“That’s a dirty Irish trick, Captain Joe,” said the
lad, doing his best to keep up with his four-footed
rival. “I wonder what he sees in there, anyway?”

The dog was now lost from sight in the
underbrush which lined the shore, and Alex could only
whistle in an effort to secure his return. The rustle
of the dead foliage was the only sound for some
time, then the dog set up fierce barking.

This was very unusual for Captain Joe, who
confined himself, as a rule, to a series of warning
growls, and Alex quickened his steps in order that
he might see what the dog was at.

All was still in the thicket penetrated by the lad,
however, and it was dark as a pocket, too. There
was little hope of finding the dog in that smother
of shadows, so Alex reluctantly turned his steps
toward the boat.

“I’d like to know what’s got into Captain Joe,”
thought the boy as he made his way back to the
*Rambler*. “He certainly is acting queerly, and I
don’t like the looks of it.”

In a few minutes he was back on the shore.

“It will be a good joke on the crazy pup to go
away and leave him on the shore,” thought the boy.
“It will teach him better manners, anyway. Now
what’s that?”

“That” was a low whistle, evidently a signal. It
came again in an instant, louder and clearer.

Alex listened again for the dog, but heard
nothing indicating his presence. In a moment there was
a rustling in the underbrush and then a man’s voice
asked:

“Are you there, Charley?”

There was no answer, and the question was
repeated. Still there was no answer. There was
another movement in the bushes, and then a figure
showed dimly in the starlight.

Presently the man who had given the signal was
joined by two other men. They talked in low tones
for a time, but gradually their voices grew louder
and Alex was able to hear what was being said.

“I don’t think they succeeded in getting the motor
boat,” the first speaker said.

“Wonder they wouldn’t show a signal,”
commented another.

“It’s a sure thing they didn’t get the boat,” a
third man said. “If they had, you needn’t be
guessing.”

“No, they would be holding a celebration now.
Wonder why they failed? The job seemed an easy
one to me—just to take a boat away from four
boys.”

There was further talk that Alex could not hear,
then the men passed out of hearing.

“The *Rambler* seems to be in good demand,” was
the boy’s comment. “If Captain Joe would show
up now, I’d go on board and put the boys on their
guard. Somehow that dog always runs away at
the wrong time! Perhaps I’d better take another
look for him. It doesn’t seem as if he could be
very far away. He needs a thumping!”

Alex made another trip through the underbrush,
but no Captain Joe rewarded his search. At last
the boy abandoned the quest and started for the
*Rambler*.

“The boys will want to know what’s going on,
and the dog can be found at some other time,” he
reasoned. “It would serve the beast good and right
to leave him in a place where he’d get hungry
enough to devour his own shadow!”

When Alex reached the spot where the boat had
been left it was nowhere to be seen. He got away
from the locality in quick time.

The place was probably being watched. The
men who had found the boat would know very well
that it couldn’t walk there.

The boy slipped back in the bushes, where he was
protected from observation by a rocky elevation,
and waited. Presently there was the murmur of
hushed voices, and then a man’s form appeared,
outlined against the sky, which was now showing
the first faint traces of daylight.

“Wonder if the fellow who went ashore in the
boat intends to make his permanent home there?”
said a voice. “He certainly stays long enough to
give one that impression.”

“He’s got to come back here after his boat, and
we’ll be right here, waiting for him,” said another
voice. “The thing that puzzles me is why the boys
didn’t get the motor boat upstream.”

There was silence for a time, during which the
three men waited for the return of the boy, who
was listening to most of their talk. Directly Alex
felt a cold nose thrust into the palm of his hand,
he knew that Captain Joe had returned.

“You’re a bad dog, going off like this!”
exclaimed the boy. “What have you to say for
yourself?”

The dog stretched himself at Alex’s feet and
offered no explanation. The matter ended, as all such
matters usually did, by the boy taking the dog’s
head into his lap and pulling his stubby ears.

Daylight was now coming on rapidly, and Alex
realized that something must be done. The least of
his troubles concerned the manner of getting back
to the *Rambler*.

So far as that went, he could easily swim that
short distance. But the lad had no intention of
going back to the boat to be laughed at.

Presently the cabin door opened and Jule made
his appearance, looking as if he had had a pretty
sound sleep.

The watching men crouched out of sight in the
bushes, and Jule stepped to the railing of the
*Rambler* and looked into the river. The sun would be
in sight in half an hour and it would be a bright
day.

Jule stood looking over the water for a minute
and then turned and entered the cabin. Directly
Clay and Case came out and the three stood at the
rail talking.

“I think I know what they are saying,” said Alex
with a smile. “They are holding a squaw man’s
convention on me. It was a rotten thing to do to
go and lose that boat. Perhaps I shall be lucky
enough to get it back. I wish those men wouldn’t
watch this spot so closely. I half believe they
suspect something.”

Alex did not know that there were two parties
watching the movements on board the *Rambler*,
each party consisting of three men. One was up
the river perhaps eighty rods, while the other lay
on the bank of the stream only a short distance
from the spot where Alex was hidden.

Directly Captain Joe arose and moved over
toward the clump of bushes where the three men lay.
The chances are that he knew of their presence, and
was willing to overlook it in the interest of
harmony, but one of the three launched a rock at his
head as he came up.

This was an insult by no means to be overlooked.
In less time than it takes to tell the story, Joe had
him by the throat.

All three boys on board the *Rambler*, seeing the
dog struggling with superior numbers, were over
the rail in an instant, striking out for the spot
where the combat was in progress.

At that instant the three men who had been up
the river, hearing the sounds of a conflict below,
emerged from the shelter of the trees and started
toward the scene of action.

Clay afterward declared that he thought Jule was
left in charge of the boat, while Jule declared that
Case was the responsible one. At any rate, while
the boys were umpiring the fight between the dog
and the man the three men plunged into the stream
and made off with the *Rambler*. The boys saw
their loss too late. The boat was already headed
downstream.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`A FRIEND IN NEED`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER V

.. class:: center medium

   A FRIEND IN NEED

.. vspace:: 2

Released from the jaws of the dog in a slightly
damaged condition, the man who had been attacked
started on a run for the spot where the rowboat
had been concealed. Blood was streaming down his
neck and throat as a result of the attentions of
Captain Joe, and the fellow shook his fist wrathfully
as he ran.

The next instant he was followed by the two
other men, who made many threats as to what they
would do to the dog if they ever came upon him
again. Captain Joe looked as if he wanted to
finish the job he had begun, but was restrained by
Clay.

The three men were not followed by the boys,
for they were too much interested in watching the
men on the *Rambler*.

For once the boys were unarmed. They had
leaped into the river on the spur of the moment,
only half dressed, and were absolutely defenseless.
They now looked at each other with faces from
which every vestige of color had fled.

In the meantime the three men were making
their way to the spot where the rowboat had been
hidden in the thicket. Almost before they could
sense what was being done, they had pushed the
boat into the water and were away in the wake of
the *Rambler*.

“There goes our Rio Grande trip!” exclaimed
Alex sorrowfully. “What can we do now?”

“Just our luck!” was Case’s comment.

Jule said not a word, evidently thinking that no
words could do justice to the occasion.

Clay remained silent for a moment, and then a
smile flickered over his face as he observed:

“Well, our next stunt will be to get the boat
back. No game is played out until the cards are
all on the table.”

“Oh, you’ll get it back, all right! In a pig’s
wrist.”

Case was almost ready to cry with anger and
vexation.

“We never should have left the boat alone,” he
declared.

“Well, it can’t be helped now,” Clay suggested.
“Who has any ideas to offer?”

“I would suggest that we take turns kicking each
other,” said Alex, wrinkling his nose. “We all
deserve the boot good and plenty! Who’ll be the one
to begin the ceremony?”

“Cut that,” remarked Clay, cheerfully. “We
have no one to blame but ourselves. The first thing
to do is to get into a decent suit of clothes. I
presume such things can be bought here.”

“Yes, but we are on the wrong side of the river,”
complained Case. “I would advise suicide!”

Three of the boys greeted this remark with roars
of laughter, but Case was not to be coaxed out of
his pessimistic mood.

“It’s all right for you boys to think you’ll get
the *Rambler* back again, but I just know you
won’t!” he contended. “We’ll be lucky if we catch
a ride back to Chicago. Anybody in the crowd got
any money? I thought not,” he added as the boys
all shook their heads. “Then how’re you going to
get any clothes or anything?”

“Say,” cried Alex, in a moment, “do you know
that we never got Paul Stegman off the boat?”

“I wonder if the new proprietors will get his leg
set?” Case suggested. “You bet they won’t!
Pirates don’t go around doing Red Cross stunts. Not
much they don’t.”

“If I had your disposition,” ventured Jule, with
a grin to take the sting out of the remark, “I’d take
it down to the river and drown it. It’s a wonder
it doesn’t keep you awake nights.”

“Come, boys, we’ve got to get a move on if we
ever get anywhere,” suggested Clay. “I move that
we begin operations with a morning bath. Bathing
suits are barred.”

The *Rambler* was now out of sight around a
bend in the river, and there was no sense in longer
delaying the moment of departure, so Alex plunged
into the stream and was soon making his way to
the other side. He was closely followed by the
dog, who seemed to regret his share in the incident
which had cost the boys the *Rambler*.

The boys were soon assembled on the opposite
shore, and it became necessary to decide upon some
course of action. It was now broad daylight, and
the people of the town were already astir.

“It amounts to just this,” Clay declared. “There
isn’t a cent in the crowd, and we are all hungry
and in need of wearing apparel. There isn’t even
a watch or a piece of jewelry in sight. Now what’s
the answer? Shall we spend the time loafing about
Hayes until our money gets here, or shall we make
a touch and get into action at once?”

“For Heaven’s sake,” insisted Alex, “let’s do
something that will bring us something to eat. My
internal machinery is about run down.”

“I’ve been anticipating this,” explained Clay,
“and am in a measure prepared for it.”

Alex’s face brightened instantly at the thought
of something to eat. Clay turned to Case with a
smile.

“Give me a slice of that cold shoulder you’ve been
turning on every suggestion made this morning,”
he said.

Alex shouted and Jule joined in the
demonstration until early risers who were passing
paused to inspect the party.

“Never again!” said Case, joining in the laughter.
“From now on I’ll be the first one to roar at a
desperate situation. What an ass a fellow is to be
always growling!”

“That’s what we all think,” said Alex.

No more was said on the subject, and for a time
Case really did better.

“We are attracting considerable attention here,”
Jule remarked, glancing about at the little crowd
which had already assembled. “Perhaps we would
better select some less conspicuous place for our
deliberations.”

“Is there anything to eat there?” Alex asked,
with a wrinkle in his nose which made his face look
very comical. “My stomach feels like the
Mammoth Cave.”

Before the boys could put their plan into
execution and seek a more secluded place in which to find
a way out of their trouble Alex caught Clay by
the arm and pointed up the street.

“Do you see anyone you know up there?” he
demanded. “That man looks like something to
eat. But how did he make the distance in the
storm?”

The boys looked in the direction indicated by the
pointing finger and saw Rube Stagg making for
them with a broad grin on his homely face.

“Say,” said Alex, advancing to meet him, “if
you’re down here looking for brindle steers, it falls
to me to tell you that there’s hot a thing stirring.”

Rube walked up to the boys and immediately
doubled up with laughter at the figure they cut.
All were sopping wet, and Clay, Case and Jule were
only half dressed.

“They got your boat, did they?” he asked, after
he had his laugh out. “And where are the injured
lad and the baby bear?”

“Gone down the river with the boat,” was the
reply.

“Too bad, too bad!” mused Rube. “I see,” he
added, whimsically, “that you saved the bulldog.”

As if in recognition of the mention, Captain Joe
advanced to Rube’s side and laid a wet nose in his
hand.

The dog seemed to know that something was
amiss, but could not tell what it was. The *Rambler*
was not in sight, and he could not understand that.

“Look here, man,” Alex remarked, with a
prodigious grin, “have you got any mazuma? I refer
to coin of the realm, skads, you know.”

“The men who robbed you of your boat also got
your money, did they?” and Rube went into
another paroxysm of laughter.

“I don’t see anything funny about the
situation,” frowned Case. “Here we are, half naked in
the street, with Paul Stegman, who may be dying
for want of medical attention, away on the river,
no one knows where. I call it rotten!”

“I ask your pardon, young feller,” came the quick
answer, “but there’s no harm in a laugh where no
harm is intended. Now, what was it this
freckle-faced kid said about money?”

“Oh, yes, money! I didn’t know as there was
any left in the world. Have you really got some?”

And the boy regarded Rube with a stare of
disbelief.

“I had good luck selling my oxen, and therefore
am moderately well hooked up. How much do you
want, son?”

By way of showing that he was both willing and
able to supply all their present needs, Rube
extracted a wad of bank notes from his pocket that
would have, in the language of Alex, “choked a
cow.”

“Whoop-ee!” shouted that young man. “Lead
me to the fodder! Lead me to it!”

“First,” began Clay, “tell us whether we can send
a message from this place. We’ve got to catch the
*Rambler*, you know.”

The man took a ponderous silver watch from
his pocket and consulted it before replying.

“The telegraph office will open in exactly forty
minutes,” he said, snapping it shut. “Do we eat
first? You see,” he continued, “I was broken of
my rest last night, and it always makes me hungry
to lie awake.”

“There’s a place down the street that looks like
something to eat,” and Alex shot ahead to
investigate.

Several men who had been following the little
party now came forward.

“Say, stranger,” a man who appeared to be the
leader said, “if you’ll step aside and answer a few
questions, I’ll take it as a favor on your part. A
bank was robbed of $100,000 by a man answering
your description—red head and all. The robbery
was pulled off Monday night.”

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`ALEX GETS A SQUARE MEAL`:

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   CHAPTER VI

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   ALEX GETS A SQUARE MEAL

.. vspace:: 2

“And you think I turned the trick?” asked Rube.

“I don’t think anything about it,” was the
answer, in an unpleasant tone of voice. “I just asked
you to step aside for a minute so I could find out.
If you get gay, I’ll have to put the irons on you—just
for luck.”

“See here, stranger, if you ever get irons on me,
you’ll have to put up a fight for it,” Rube remarked
with a scowl. “And,” he continued, “I may as well
tell you right now that I’m not here to answer any
fool questions.”

Both men drew revolvers at the same instant,
and would have used them had Clay not stepped in
between them.

“There goes my beefsteak,” Alex whispered to
Jule. “Our good thing will be in the village lockup
in about half a second.”

“Just our luck!” declared Case.

“Gentlemen,” began Clay, but he was stopped
by a man who came pushing his way through the
crowd impetuously.

“None of that, gentlemen,” he drawled. “If I
want any shooting done, I’ll do it myself. What
seems to be the trouble?”

“I don’t see where you get cards in this game,”
sneered a bystander.

“I can tell you where this man was last night,”
put in Alex, who was resolved not to lose his
steak. “He was up the river about thirty miles
helping four boys load a wounded boy on a motor
boat.”

“What of that?” demanded the spokesman of
the party. “Last night wasn’t Monday night.”

“That’s so,” said Alex, looking very much
ashamed, “it was Tuesday night. Pardon me.”

“Where’s the wounded boy and the motor boat?”
inquired a man who stood in the crowd.

“Yes, where be they?” asked another. “I fail to
see any motor boat, or boat of any kind, with
them. In fact, I know that they came swimming
up to the landing like a lot of dock rats. I’m in
favor of locking the whole bunch up.”

“Do it, Mr. Officer,” urged several men in the
crowd.

The constable stepped forward as if to make the
arrest, but the man who had spoken against any
shooting, offering to do it himself, if any was done,
stepped in front of him.

He was an alert looking fellow, with a
businesslike air which seemed to proclaim that he would
be as good as his word.

“You heard what I said about doing the shooting
myself if any was started,” he said, with a drawl.
“I’m from Missouri and you’ve got to show me.”

“What kind of a bluff is this, anyway?”
demanded the constable, but he put up his weapon, as if he
had decided not to call the bluff at that time.

“I’m looking for that steak,” suggested Alex,
wrinkling his nose. “When does it come?”

“I’m Buck Eldred,” announced the man with a
businesslike air, “and I know this man,” pointing
to the giant of a man, with a smile on a clean-cut
face, “just as well as if I had helped wheel the dirt
to make him. Anybody in the crowd that knows
Buck Eldred?”

No one seemed to know Buck Eldred, and the
chances for a battle seemed very good. At that
moment, however, an interruption took place which
put an entirely different face on the incident.

A posse of officers came in from the East with
the man who had robbed the bank in custody.

Instantly there was a friendly sentiment, and the
men who had denounced the boys in savage terms
could not do enough for them.

To all such offers, however, the boys turned deaf
ears.

“We might have had a load of beefsteak by
now,” said Alex, “that a dog couldn’t bite through.
Just wait until I get to the table and watch my
motions.”

“You’ll be there directly,” said Rube, with a
chuckle. “I feel as if I could enjoy a snack
myself.”

The tavern sought by the men seemed to be the
best in the town, but that was not saying much.
However, it was neat and clean, and the steaks
were soon sizzling over the coals.

“Will you tell me how you got down the river
so soon?” Clay asked as soon as the first edge was
off the appetites. “We leave the Point, get here in
time to have our boat stolen, and then we run across
you. How did you make it? We haven’t been here
over two hours, and you show up like a Christmas
present—all the more welcome because unexpected.”

“Now, son, just remember this: It ain’t all the
questions that are asked that are answered. What
you don’t find out you can’t repeat. And there you
are.”

“I didn’t mean to be inquisitive,” answered Clay,
with a flush of vexation. “It is none of my
business how you got here, so long as you are here.”

“Now don’t misunderstand me,” continued Rube,
in an apologetic tone, which seemed to be
something new for him. “There’s reasons for keeping
my mouth closed tighter’n a drum. Enough that
I got here in time to help you out with a little cash,
which you may return at any time most convenient.”

“Thank you for the loan,” replied Clay. “I hope
to return it almost immediately—just as soon, in
fact, as we hear from Chicago.”

No more was said on the subject at that time.
The boys were busy plying their knives and forks,
and, the meal over, there was the visit to the
telegraph office and then the search for the *Rambler*
was begun.

To tell the truth, the fate of Paul Stegman
troubled the lads not a little. They had no idea
what disposition the robbers would make of him.
They might toss him overboard, and they might
leave him to die of his wounds. It would be just
as the mood seized them.

There was no news of the *Rambler* at first. The
boys were becoming discouraged when a telegram
from a point thirty miles down the river gave them
courage.

A boat answering the description of the *Rambler*
was anchored off the mouth of a small creek which
ran into the Rio Grande just below the Mexican
line.

“Of course it’s the *Rambler*!” shouted Case. “No
other boat looks like the *Rambler*. Wonder what’s
been going on since we left the boat? Seems like
a week.”

“How are we going to get to her?” inquired
Jule. “Thirty miles is a long distance—when you
have to swim.”

“And the robbers may be up and away long
before we are anywhere near them,” Alex cut in. “Is
there a boat of any kind that we might borrow,
beg or steal in the town?”

“There ought to be,” Clay contributed hopefully.
“This is a river town, and there ought to be plenty
of boats in sight.”

“Can we get one that will speed up?” asked Case.

“That’s to be found out,” said Clay.

“I hope we find Paul Stegman all right,” Case
said, rather dubiously. “It would be just like the
robbers to pitch him overboard. Their time of
reckoning will come.”

A search of the town revealed nothing available
in the boat line. There were rowboats and skiffs in
plenty, but not a thing in the line of a motor boat.

“We’ve just got to get down to the Mexican line,
and get there in jig time,” declared Alex. “The
baby bear needs my care.”

“That’s poetry,” Jule announced. “Baby bear
needs my care. It scans, too. First thing you
know, Alex, you’ll be selling your verses at the rate
of a dollar a yard.”

Alex grinned, but made no reply.

“I wonder where Rube and Buck Eldred took
themselves off to?” asked Case in a moment. “They
seem to have mysteriously disappeared.”

“Here they come now!” cried Jule.

The two men came from the direction of the
river, only higher up than the boys had penetrated.
They now approached the lads with their faces
wreathed in smiles.

“Got a boat, boys?” Buck asked.

“Not so you could notice it,” Alex answered.

“See here, kids,” Buck went on, “Rube here has
been telling me something of your story, and we’ve
decided to make common cause against the pirates.
How will that suit you?”

“Fine!” cried Alex.

The other boys were equally frank in their
pleasure at the announcement, and Buck went on.

“Now, we’ve got a little motor boat down the
river which——”

The man got no farther than that.

The boys set up such a hubbub that it was
impossible to hear a thing. They ended by giving
three cheers and a tiger for Rube and Buck.

“This is great!” exclaimed Clay.

“Great is no name for it!” Alex declared. “Say,
fellows, in order to celebrate this event properly,
we ought to have another beefsteak. This good
news makes me hungry.”

“I’d like to see something that wouldn’t make
you want to eat. You certainly have a whale of an
appetite,” was Clay’s comment.

“I know what I’d like right now,” Alex went on,
regardless of the laughter of Buck and Rube, “and
that is a ’possum pie. I can see myself on board
the *Rambler*, feasting on one right now.”

“That’s all right, but you’re not on board the
*Rambler* yet,” Case complained. “We’re a long
ways from it, worse luck!”

“That reminds me that I haven’t had anything
to eat in about two hours,” said Rube, with a grin,
“and that it is about time we met at the festive
board.”

“But how are you going to get a meal cooked in
the middle of the forenoon?” asked Buck. “It
strikes me that the cooks will be busy at this time.
Better wait until noon.”

“Not much,” laughed Alex, with a prodigious
wrinkling of his nose. “Not when I’ve got a man
back of me that stands six feet and a half in his
stocking feet!”

“Go to it,” said Clay, with a grin. “If this thing
keeps on you’ll swell up and burst.”

“I guess I’ll take a chance on bursting myself,”
announced Jule. “Two bust-ups won’t make any
more noise than one, and no more mess, either.”
The three started away toward the tavern, while
the others set out to walk to the motor boat, which
was some distance away.

“Tell you what I think,” Buck observed, as they
passed a clothing store where about everything was
sold from handkerchiefs to threshing machines,
“you boys have been walking the street undressed
about long enough. I’ll buy you good suits if you’ll
come inside. You won’t make any hit with the
natives by going around in that rig.”

Clay looked down at his scanty apparel and
laughed. The suit did look inappropriate for use
on the street.

“All right,” said the boy. “If you want to take
chances on losing your investment, go ahead.”

“How do you know that you’ll ever get the money
back?” asked Case. “Perhaps we only borrowed
the *Rambler* and turned it over to the owners
here.”

“You didn’t borrow the faces you have, did
you?” answered Buck, with a smile. “If you ever
set out to be robbers, you’ve got to get new faces.”

“You may be mistaken in regard to the faces,”
replied Clay. “You can never tell by the looks of
a porcupine how far he can throw his quills. What
is that man looking at?”

He certainly was as evil-faced a fellow as one
could come upon in a day’s walk.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`STOLEN—A MOTOR BOAT`:

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   CHAPTER VII

.. class:: center medium

   STOLEN—A MOTOR BOAT

.. vspace:: 2

“I’ve seen that face before, unless I am much
mistaken,” was the reply. “It must be Mad
Rowell, a person who just thinks he’s the toughest man
that ever came down the pike.”

The boys were in the store by this time with a
meager supply of clothing in front of them. Mad
Rowell was evidently looking for trouble. He kept
his evil eyes fixed upon the party in an effort to
stare them out of countenance.

“This looks like a mix-up with the fellow,”
whispered Case. “I wish I had my gun with me.”

“No need of a gun, son,” was the reply. “You
wouldn’t get a chance to use it if you had it,” with
a quick motion toward a breast pocket.

“Hands up!”

The command was given in the usual tone, but
Mad Rowell obeyed instantly. His hand, already
bringing a weapon from his pocket, dropped to his
side, the weapon clattering to the floor.

By this time the store was in confusion. Customers
were getting out of range in any way they
could.

They were hiding under counters, and rushing to
the door in a panic which threatened to depopulate
the place of business.

“Leave the gun where it is,” came the voice of
Buck.

His tone was low and musical, but there was a
glitter in his smiling eyes which commanded
obedience.

The fellow stood sullenly awaiting the next move.

“I ought to fill you full of lead,” went on the
voice, “but I can’t find it in my heart to shoot such
a low-down coyote as you. Got another gun on
you?”

The man shook his head.

“I’ll find that out for myself, I reckon. Cattle
like you ain’t to be trusted.”

When the search had progressed as far as the
pistol pocket a wicked looking knife was discovered.

“You cur!” said Buck. “I make you a present
of your life, and this is the way I’m paid.”

The blow which followed the remark had nothing
to break its force. Mad Rowell was lifted clear of
the floor by the force of it, whirled around a couple
of times, and fell unconscious to the top of a heap
of green wood.

Then Buck turned to the counter and proceeded
with his bargaining as if nothing had occurred.
Gradually the customers returned to the store, but
not until Buck and the boys had made their
purchases and left the store was there any comment
whatever.

Then opinions, both for and against the unknown
man who had dealt with the man known as Mad
Rowell so summarily were heard.

“Served him good and right,” said the storekeeper,
lifting the fallen tough in his arms and throwing
him out of doors. “The fellow has run this town
too long already.”

And that was the general sentiment, though
Rowell had his friends too.

Clay and Case, clothed in new suits, proceeded on
their way to where the motor boat had been
secreted.

“Tell you what,” Buck suggested, “I think some
of us had better remain on the spot, in case prowlers
should take a fancy to the *Esmeralda*. Nice name,
eh? Named for an old sweetheart.”

“Who’ll be the one to stay?” asked Clay, looking
keenly at his chum. “You know the money was
ordered in my name from Chicago, and no one else
can receipt.”

“That puts it up to me, I take it,” Case replied.
“Have you any idea when the other boys will be
along?”

“When Alex gets full to the neck,” replied Clay.
“If you want to see an eating contest that is a
corker, just get Alex and Jule pitted against each
other.”

Alex seemed to be a long time getting “full to
the neck,” and Buck and Clay finally left for the
town, leaving Case to watch the boat.

When they reached the tavern there seemed to be
nothing unusual going on. There were no people
standing about, and everything appeared normal
and in place.

“Now, I wonder where the boys and Rube are?”
Clay said. “They ought to be here, making a
noise!”

The two found no one in the front of the house,
so they made bold to invade the kitchen. Before
they reached that apartment, however, they heard
Alex’s voice. They stopped and listened.

“And you take a fat ’possum and fix it up for
the pan,” he was saying, “and when you’ve done
that, take strips of fat pork and lay them
lengthwise through the dressing. Oh, yes, about the
dressing! I didn’t tell you how to fix that, did I?”

Clay was so full of laugh that he exploded right
there.

“Tell the cook about the sweet potatoes!” he
reared, half choking with laughter. “Perhaps
you’ll make a pretty good cook of him before we
have to leave the town.”

Alex opened the kitchen door and looked out.

“Oh, you!” he said with a broad grin.

Then he caught sight of the new suit worn by
Clay and looked toward Jule with a wrinkling of the
nose.

“Don’t you wish you’d been present when they
were passing ’em around?” he said. “Now go
away and let me continue my lesson to the cook.
He got up a peach of a steak for us, and I’m giving
him a few instructions to guide him in future
years. Go away, now, and leave us alone.
Skedaddle!”

The cook was black as the ace of spades, and
was evidently a native of the South. He stood by
the cook stove with a broad grin on his face. If he
knew a lot about roasting ’possums that Alex had
never heard of, he said not a word about it!

Rube sat in the corner of the room holding his
sides.

“You sure take the whole bakery!” was his
comment.

“Perhaps you don’t think I can cook a ’possum?”
Alex announced. “Well, just you bring on your
’possum, and I’ll show you that I can! The idea!”

This was greeted with a burst of laughter.

“All right!” declared Alex, “just you bring on
your ’possum! I’ll show you a thing about cooking
the bird!”

“There isn’t a ’possum within a thousand miles!”
roared Buck.

“Now, don’t yo’ make too sho’ o’ dat!” grinned
the cook. “Yo’ sho’ got to show me!”

The cook went to a woodshed just outside the
door and produced about the fattest ’possum ever
seen.

Immediately there was commotion in that little
kitchen.

Alex bounced up and down like a rubber ball,
while Jule showed his excitement by rolling over
and over on the floor.

“The cook called your bluff!” shouted Buck.

“Think that was a bluff?” asked Alex.

The lad took off his coat and rolled up his
sleeves.

“I’m going to make good right now!” he
explained.

The cook looked nervous about turning the ’possum
over to Alex. He finally made up his mind
that the boy couldn’t make much of a failure of the
cookery with him there looking on, so he permitted
him to go ahead. Buck looked dubious and Rube
only laughed.

“Now you fellows get out of the kitchen!”
ordered Alex. “How do you think I can cook this
’possum with you standing around? When the
meal is ready to serve, I’ll tell you.”

“You don’t think of eating again, do you?” asked
Clay.

“Do you think I’m going to miss that ’possum?
Not much, I ain’t! No, sir, that ’possum’s going
to be cooked, and cooked right! Then it’ll be eaten
right!”

The two boys left the kitchen, accompanied by
Buck and Rube, leaving Alex and the cook to do
business with the ’possum.

After leaving the tavern Clay and Jule went to
the railroad station, hoping to find a money order
there. They were doubly disappointed. Not only
was there no money for them, but that was not a
money-order office.

“Now what?” asked Jule as they turned away
from the little station house. “This seems to be
one of our lucky trips. Anything else likely to
happen?”

“Tell you what I’d do if I was in your place,”
advised Rube. “I’d let the consarned money go and
borrow enough to see me through to El Paso.
That’s the way I look at it.”

“That’s what you’d better do,” said Buck.

“Guess we’ll be obliged to,” Clay said in a
disgusted tone.

“Why didn’t the clerk tell us that it wasn’t a
money-order office at first?” demanded Jule.

“Perhaps he didn’t know,” laughed Buck.
“There’s sometimes a heap o’ ignorance connected
with these way stations.”

“I should say so!” agreed Jule.

“Now who shall we borrow of?” asked Clay.

By way of an answer Rube took the roll of bank
notes from his pocket and began stripping them
off.

“How much did you say you wanted?” he asked.
“Better take enough for emergencies while you
have the chance. I may be broke flat as a flounder
by to-morrow.”

“This will give us a chance to get away at once,”
said Clay, placing the money in his pocket. “If
Alex was here, we could be on our way
immediately.”

Jule broke into a laugh at the idea of prying
Alex away from that ’possum.

“You’ll not do it,” he announced, “as long as
there is a bone left. Alex is some feeder.”

“There’s no hurry,” Buck said, looking at his
watch. “The men who stole the boat will lie in
hiding all day and go on at night. They will be on
the lookout for officers, and will do a lot of
skulking. They may even abandon the boat for a time,
but they will come back to it.”

“And they may put up a fight,” Jule argued.
“For one, I’d like nothing better than taking a shot
at them.”

“They won’t do much in the fighting line,” Buck
contended. “It all depends on how many of us
there are. There seems to be four of them and
they won’t stand for more than that in the
attacking party. You see,” he added, “there’s the
Colorado penitentiary in sight, and they’ll make a
desperate run to keep out of it.”

“But they may fight,” suggested Clay.

“Oh, of course,” answered Buck, “but we’ll be
on the spot, ready and waiting for them.”

It seemed to the waiting boys that there never
was such a long day. Alex, of course, had his
’possum to attend to.

When served at dinner the ’possum was declared
to be the best ever. Rich and juicy, and done to a
turn, it left nothing to be desired.

The cook declared on his word of honor he had
not even made a suggestion regarding the cooking
of the dainty.

“Ah sure don’t need to,” he insisted, “for dat lad
he know all there is to know ’bout cookin’ ’possum!
’Deed he do!”

This endorsement was music to Alex’s ears, and
he tried hard to accept it modestly. His three
chums knew, of course, his skill in the culinary
line, but there were Rube and Buck who had to be
shown.

Case had been relieved of his watch at the boat
in order that he might join the boys at dinner,
and immediately after the meal was served started
away to resume his guardianship, accompanied by
Jule.

Alex and Clay remained with Rube and Buck,
who had provisions to buy. They did not know
how long the chase might be, and were determined
to be prepared for it.

After making their purchases they set out for
the motor boat, but were met halfway by Case and
Jule with the statement that the boat had been
stolen while the ’possum was being discussed.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`ALEX CLIMBS A TREE`:

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   CHAPTER VIII

.. class:: center medium

   ALEX CLIMBS A TREE

.. vspace:: 2

The boys looked into faces which had lost the
ruddy tinge of health. For a second not a word
was spoken.

Then Clay laughed. This seemed to set the
pace for the men, for they all laughed in unison.

Then Case grew sober.

“I had a grumble at the end of my tongue,” he
said, “but Clay’s laugh made me forget it. What’s
the next move?”

“Find the boat,” contributed Buck. “As we
don’t know which way they went, we’ll split the
party, and go in both directions. They can’t be
very far away.”

“They went upstream,” said Alex. “I had a seat
at the table from which the river was in sight, and
I’m positive that no motor boat passed in the other
direction.”

“Still, one might have gone downstream when
you were otherwise engaged,” replied Buck. “I’ve
noticed that boys have a habit of overlooking many
things when the ’possum is cooked just right.”

Alex grinned but made no comment.

“This is some of Mad Rowell’s work,” said
Rube, as the party passed on upstream.

“You bet it is,” Case added. “Twice I thought I
saw him in the underbrush, but finally decided that
it was my imagination working overtime. I wish
now that I had investigated.”

“If Mad Rowell knows how to operate a motor
boat,” said Buck, “the chances are against us. That
boat can go some!”

The party advanced up the stream half a mile or
more without seeing anything in the shape of a
motor boat.

“Hopeless case, I reckon,” suggested Rube. “It
strikes me that we are only wasting time. We
should have gone directly to the village and used
the wire.

The man had hardly ceased speaking when an
exclamation from Jule attracted the attention of all
in the party.

“There she is!”

It was indeed true. The *Esmeralda* lay rocking
in the river some distance farther upstream. Mad
Rowell was nowhere in view from where the party
stood. The boat was, however, on the opposite
bank of the river.

Buck appeared lost in a brown study for a
moment, and then he said, speaking in his usual
drawl:

“This may be an ambush.”

“If they ever got one of us into the river, they
could fill him so full of lead that he’d sink of his
own weight,” Clay went on. “The thing to do now
is for all to take to the water at once. They can’t
kill all of us!”

“They might do even that,” put in Rube, “but
it seems that we have to risk it. I wish I had my
two hands on the man who is responsible for
this!”

“Well, what’s the decision?” asked Case.

“Yes,” answered Alex, “who’s ready for a cold
bath?”

“If there’s anything I just love to do,” laughed
Jule, “it is to go swimming. This water is fine!”

“Suppose we all strip?” suggested Case, who did
not care to get his new suit wet.

“Then we’ll have to leave someone on this side
to watch the clothes,” said Jule. “That will be a
good job for me.”

“In a pig’s wrist,” Case said. “We’ll draw lots
to see who stays behind.”

Fate decided in favor of Alex, much to the
disgust of that young man, who was really anxious
to try conclusions with the men who had stolen the
boat. He tried his best to get a substitute, but did
not succeed, and so was obliged to sit idly on the
bank of the stream while the others took to the
water.

“Come on in. The water’s fine!” taunted Jule.

Notwithstanding the optimism of Jule, the water
was wretchedly cold. At that time, however, the
people in the stream were too much occupied with
other matters to pay any attention to the
temperature of the water.

They spread out in the shape of a fan and made
for the opposite shore with no thought of the chill
of the water. When at last their feet struck the
shelving shore, they kept the old formation.

To their great surprise there was no one in or
about the boat. They advanced cautiously, not
knowing when they might be attacked.

They did not see the evil face of Mad Rowell
peering out upon them from a clump of
underbrush. As a matter of fact, the man had been
caught off his guard.

He had gone back down the river looking for
an old crony to keep him company in the journey
he proposed to take. He had returned to the
*Esmeralda* just a minute too late.

This accounted for the boat being in such good
condition. If Rowell had abandoned it, it is a
sure thing that he would have broken the motor
and done other damage which would have made
its use impossible, for a time at least.

If Rowell had been possessed of a revolver, the
chances are that he would have taken a shot at
Buck, but, it will be remembered, his weapon had
been taken from him at the store.

So, weaponless as he was, the tough was obliged
to see the *Esmeralda* taken away by its owner. He
resolved, however, to “get even” at the first
opportunity.

“Now, what do you know about this?” demanded
Clay, looking over the boat critically. “The motor
is in fine form, and I can’t see a thing the matter
anywhere.”

Rube pointed to the place where the rowboat had
been kept.

“The skiff is not here,” he remarked, “and it
looks like they had gone away in it.”

By this time all the boys were shivering, so they
made a hasty departure for the other shore. When
only a few yards away they observed Captain Joe
acting in a suspicious manner, and turned on more
electricity.

“What’s that fool dog up to?” asked Case.

There was quite a commotion on shore, and the
boys did not wait to see that the *Esmeralda* was
anchored, but sprang into the river and swam
ashore. When they reached solid ground neither
Alex nor the dog was in sight. And neither were
the clothes!

“Well, of all the——”

Clay stopped right there. All he could say did
not half express the situation.

A few articles of clothing were scattered about,
but they did not represent the five suits which
had been left there only a short time before. In
fact, a good share of the clothes had disappeared.

The shivering lads gathered on the river bank
and pondered over the new turn of affairs until
joined by Rube and Buck.

“Where’s your boy who was watching the
clothes?” asked Buck. “I don’t seem to see him
anywhere about!”

“And where’s your dog?” demanded Rube.

“Blessed if I know what’s been going on here!”
exclaimed Case, his teeth rattling as with the
ague.

“Oh, this is a bad dream,” declared Jule. “Turn
over and get off your back! You’ll be dreaming
of pie in a minute!”

“I wish I had any old thing to put on,” grumbled
Case.

“You know what Eve did when she found
herself naked?” remarked Jule. “She made an apron
of fig leaves.”

“Bring on your fig leaves!” ordered Clay.
“Here, waiter, one order of fig leaves.”

“Something must be done at once,” declared
Rube. “I’m that cold that life in an ice house
would be a pleasant recreation!”

A movement was now heard in the underbrush
which lined the shore of the stream, and Captain
Joe made his appearance.

The dog was greeted with exclamations of
disgust.

“Come here, you mongrel cur!” shouted Case,
at the same time making a rush for the canine.
“What did you do with our clothes?”

Captain Joe wagged his quarter of a tail and
said in his best dog talk that he would show them
later.

“Where’s Alex?” asked Case, talking to the dog
as if he had the gift of speech.

Captain Joe climbed up on his questioner, much
to the latter’s annoyance, he being nearly naked,
and made further demonstrations which said in
plain dog talk that he knew what was being said,
but considered it beneath his dignity to make reply.

“You’re a naughty dog, and you shan’t have a
bit of supper,” threatened Case.

Captain Joe got down from his elevated position
and walked with great dignity toward the fringe of
trees which grew along the east shore of the stream.

“He wants us to follow him,” Clay declared, “but
how are we going to do it? The wild men of
Borneo have us beaten to a frazzle when it comes
to clothes.”

“It seems as if we might get one good suit out
of this mess,” Clay said. “Who’ll be the man to
try?”

“It seems to me that we all ought to be getting
a move on,” said Jule. “For all we know, Alex
may be having all kinds of trouble. We appear
to be children of fortune this trip! Everything
comes our way—in a horn!”

It was finally agreed that Jule should remain at
the *Esmeralda*, and that the others should follow
the dog, who was still hanging around, in the hope
that some of the boys might follow him.

When they reached the fringe of trees which
stood along the shore of the river, Clay paused
and doubled up with laughter.

Alex was in sight—up a tree.

There was a bear at the foot of the tree—a bear
that evidently thought he had a cinch on the
boy—a Colorado mountain bear, small but fierce. And
Alex was playing a mouth organ with all the energy
he possessed for the benefit of the bear!

The boys laughed until their sides ached before
attempting any interference. Only for the fact that
the wind was blowing from the east, while the
place where the clothes had been deposited was
to the west of that point, the noise of Alex’s
shouting for assistance and the music of the organ might
have been heard from the first.

The bear moved away sullenly, taking an extra
swipe at a pair of Buck’s trousers as he did so. He
had evidently scented the clothing during a
temporary absence of Alex and began work on them.

“What you doing up that tree?” Clay called out,
as he approached the spot, from which Alex was
now descending. “We left you guarding the
clothes.”

“He had to entertain the bear, didn’t he?” put in
Case. “Bears just love music.”

“Where was your automatic?” asked Rube,
breaking into another fit of laughter at the
general appearance of the party.

Buck had succeeded in finding a vest and a pair
of drawers, Rube was dressed in an undershirt and
a pair of trousers, Clay wore a ruined sweater and
a pair of trousers, while Case sported about in a
coat and trousers and a soft felt hat.

“The bear made new business for the merchant,”
laughed Clay. “How’s your money holding out,
Rube? Big contract you took when you set out to
supply this bunch with clothes!”

“Don’t you worry about the money,” Rube
answered. “I’ve got a roll that would choke a cow
yet.”

The man suddenly clapped his hand to his side
with an anxious look and brought it away empty.

“Well, I’ll be—”

He never completed the sentence, but dashed off
in the direction of the place where the clothes had
been.

Alex had remained silent under all the chaffing
to which he had been subjected. Now, however,
with an exclamation of dismay he started away
after Rube.

“What’s coming off?” asked Buck.

“Blessed if I know,” answered Clay.

“I’ll bet that Rube has lost his money!”

It was Clay who made the remark, and it served
to set both boys and Buck in motion.

“This a fine trip, I don’t think!” grumbled Case,
as they ran for the spot where the clothing had
been left.

When the party gained the spot they had so
recently left, neither Jule nor the *Esmeralda*
was in sight!

“Where’s the boat, and where’s Jule?” demanded
Buck. “We appear to be having the time of our
lives!”

“Well,” said Clay, “the boat got away, not being
anchored, and Jule set out to catch it. The time
of our lives, well, I should say so! Did you find
the roll. Rube?”

Rube, who was down on the ground turning
over everything in sight, looked up with a comical
grin on his face.

“Say,” he said, with a chuckle, “if we don’t find
that roll, we’ve got someone to lay it to. Eh? We
can charge it to the bear!”

“You may charge our present plight to me!”
Alex said. “If I hadn’t laid my automatic aside
for a minute, I might have killed the bear, and
all these complications never would have
happened.”

“It was to be!” observed Clay.

“You bet it was!” Case added.

“You just say that to make me feel better,”
Alex replied, almost in tears. “I’m a blunderer,
anyhow.”

“We wouldn’t know what to do without you!”
responded Case, tapping the boy on the shoulder.
“Now, brace up. Things have got to change for
the better before long!”

At that instant they saw Jule walking dejectedly
up the river.

“I don’t see any boat with him,” Case commented.

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.. _`THE RAMBLER HEARD FROM`:

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   CHAPTER IX

.. class:: center medium

   THE RAMBLER HEARD FROM

.. vspace:: 2

“He’s got the motor boat in his pocket—perhaps!”
Clay said, dejectedly. “We’ll have to walk
back to Chicago, I take it! Well, we may as well
laugh as cry, so here goes for the merry side of
things. It might be worse, you know!”

“I fail to see how it could be much worse,” Case
observed. “We are shy clothes and everything!
Right now we look like a lot of monkeys dancing
about in the forest!”

Jule was by this time within hailing distance, and
Buck called out to him, asking where the boat was.
For answer the boy pointed down the river.

“I knew it!” said Case, with a shiver.

“How did it happen?” asked Buck.

“It drifted away,” replied Jule, when he came
within speaking distance, “but some men down the
river caught it. It will be up here in a few minutes.”
“Whoop-ee!” shouted Case.

“I’ve got a picture of our walk back to Chicago!”
Clay exclaimed, dancing about in his ruined sweater
and trousers. “Not yet—not for your Uncle
Zeke!”

“Why didn’t you get into the boat and ride up?”
asked Buck.

“There was no place to land,” was the reply.
“There comes the boat now, with three men aboard
of her.”

“I give it up,” declared Rube, rising to his feet.
“At the present time if cows were selling for a
cent apiece, the whole party couldn’t buy a piece of
cheese an inch in size!”

“Don’t you be too sure about that!”

And Jule took the missing roll from a pocket
in his shirt and presented it to the owner. The
moment of blank amazement over, the boys placed
the roll of money on the ground, and, joining hands,
circled around it until they were all out of breath.

“I found it on the ground where the bear left it,”
said the boy in explanation. “Wasn’t he a good,
kind bear to leave anything at all?” he added,
whimsically.

“How do you know there was any bear?”
demanded Case. “The fix the clothes were in might
have been the work of mischievous boys, for all
you knew.”

“Not much,” Jule replied. “Boys wouldn’t have
a nest in that hollow tree, would they? And boys
wouldn’t be sliding down, and raking the bark off
the tree, would they?”

“Then you knew just what we were to meet?”
demanded Clay.

“I thought Alex had been caught without his
automatic, and that the bear had chased him away,”
answered Jule.

“That’s exactly what happened,” said Alex.
“The bear came out of the tree and I had to run
for it. When I got to the tree I found the bear
close to my heels. I think he would have got me
only for the mouth organ. How I did long for my
automatic!”

“Why didn’t you run while the bear was
attending to the clothing?” asked Rube, who was so glad
to get his money back that his face wore a chronic
and perpetual grin.

“To tell the truth,” replied Alex, with a sly smile,
“I wasn’t here when the brute showed up! I was
away on a little trip of my own. Now you have
the whole story.”

“Well,” said Rube, “as we have to make another
trip to the village, and it’s getting along toward
the middle of the afternoon, perhaps we’d better
be deciding who’s to go. We can’t all go in the
rigs we have on, that’s a sure thing. The bear
didn’t leave us too many clothes—not enough to
hurt any.”

“I’ve got an idea!” suggested Alex. “It will save
us a trip to town and, at the same time, expedite
matters. What’s the matter with my going to the
burg and buying for us all?”

“Well, if you’ll promise not to follow off any
bears; that’s the ticket!” said Buck.

“The bears are likely to follow Alex off!”
laughed Case.

The motor boat now dropped anchor in front of
where the boys were standing, and the party was
subjected to no end of “roasting” because of their
disreputable appearance.

“Looks like the Garden of Eden!” roared the
man who seemed to be in charge. “Where are your
clothes?” he went on. “If I was the proprietor of
that layout, I’d be looking around for a rag man!”

“The bear caught sight of our clothes first,” Clay
answered. “Got time to take one of the boys back
to the store?” he asked. “As you see, we are in
need of clothes.”

“I should say so!” replied the other.

The story was soon told, and the men were off
for the town in a hurry. For once, Alex did the
job of buying the clothes as it should have been
done, and was soon on his way back to the boys.

As he understood the motor thoroughly, it was
not necessary for the boatmen to return with him.
They left him with many expressions of good will,
and many admonitions to give all members of the
bear family a wide berth in future.

It was fortunate that the provisions purchased
by Buck and Rube were intact, they having been
hidden in a separate place.

The clothes fitted all the boys very well indeed,
but Rube, owing to what Alex called “his length
of beam,” was forced to don a suit about a foot
too large for him and a foot too short.

“These clothes are all right, only they don’t fit!”
said Rube, looking down at his protruding legs.
“They fit me too quick the long way, and they are
about the size of an elephant the short way.”

“You shouldn’t notice it!” volunteered Alex.
“If this thing keeps on, you’ll be short in your bank
account.”

“How much is there left in that roll?” asked
Clay.

“Now, don’t you worry about the roll wasting
away,” replied Rube, “for there’s more where that
came from.”

“Glad to know it—we may want to make another
touch!” was Alex’s reply. “We’re pretty deep in
that roll now, if anybody should ask you,” he
added, with a wink at Jule.

“Now, see here,” Rube responded, “don’t you
ever think I take any chance whatever in losing
this money. You boys haven’t said a word to me
about how you are hooked up! We’ve been too
busy for that. But don’t you ever suspect that I
don’t know. You haven’t mentioned any names,
except Clay, Alex, Case and Jule, but I read all
about you and the *Rambler* in a Chicago newspaper,
and the minute you referred to the *Rambler* I had
you located.”

“It seems that we are getting notorious,”
suggested Clay. “We can’t make a move that some
newspaper don’t record.”

“Lucky for you that it is so,” Rube continued.

“Why is it lucky for us?” demanded Jule,
interrupting.

“Well,” Rube went on, “when you picked up Paul
Stegman last night in the rain, and began talking
about the *Rambler* and Captain Joe, I had you sized
up. So when Buck came down the river in his
motor boat, I got aboard, thinking you kids might
need a little lookin’ after. Now you’ve got the
whole story.”

“And so, without knowing it, we had a
bodyguard from the time we rescued Paul from the
river?” Case interrupted. “It was mighty good of
you both.”

“I wonder how Paul is faring?” Clay suggested.

“Oh, the boat thieves probably threw him
overboard,” Case declared. “I’d like to wring their
necks!”

“Now,” Rube said, “I’ve got a hunch that you
boys are able to look out for yourselves, so I’ll
ride as far as the *Rambler* and quit you there. I
have a little work to do for myself. If you are as
level-headed in future as you have shown yourselves
to be in the past, you won’t need any watching.”

“How do you know we’ll catch the *Rambler*?”
asked Jule.

“I’m just supposing a case,” replied Rube with a
grin.

“You just bet we’ll catch her!” Alex contributed.
“And when we get her next time, we’ll keep her.
This chasing after boats all the time ain’t what it’s
cracked up to be.”

It was late in the afternoon when the *Esmeralda*
got under way, just as Clay had planned. A close
watch was kept on both shores as the boat proceeded
downstream.

Naturally, the *Rambler* would take the easiest
course, which was downstream, but for this very
reason the boys decided to search every foot of
water until they came to it. As soon as it was
dark enough, the thieves might seek to baffle
pursuit by heading up the river.

At last darkness settled down on the water. Had
the night been made to order it could not have
served the purpose of the boys better. If the
*Rambler* had crept into some hiding place along
the stream her lights would show them where she
lay.

In case her lights were not burning and her
motors were not running it would be a difficult
thing to locate the boat, and for this reason the
*Esmeralda* was kept slowed down.

From the first Clay had not believed the story
told by Rube. He might be interested in a ranch,
and Clay did not doubt that he was, but that was
not the reason for his appearance on the scene just
at that time. The boy did not care to make himself
disliked by prying too openly into the affairs of the
others, yet he was positive that there was a hidden
motive back of the one reason given.

Clay talked the matter over with the other boys,
but could not reach a satisfactory conclusion.

“Perhaps he’s an officer,” suggested Jule.

“In that case,” replied Clay, “he would be apt
to know some of the other officers.”

“From first to last,” answered Jule, “we haven’t
met a single man who has shown any authority. I
guess he’s just helping out for the fun he’s getting
out of it.”

“And Buck? What about him?” asked Case.

“Give it up, boys,” cried Alex. “You’re all
tangled up now, and the more you guess the more
you’ll get tangled.”

The *Esmeralda* slipped downstream with no
lights in sight. Whenever they came to a long
stretch of river the motor was set in motion, but
ordinarily it remained silent.

Of course the boys were unable to pick out the
localities for speeding, they being strangers to that
section of country, but here Buck and Rube proved
very capable guides.

They knew the upper Rio Grande as the
schoolboy knows his primer. In fact, knowing the stream
so well, it was remarkable that they had never
before landed at Hayes. But Hayes is a small place,
and, besides, they had never had occasion to visit
the burg.

At ten o’clock a slow rain began falling, and, the
boat at the time being just around a point of land
from a creek, Buck, who was in charge, shut off
the power and permitted the craft to drift.

“Do you see anything that looks like a light?”

It was Rube who asked the question.

At that instant, almost before the words were off his lips,
came a low whistle of warning.

“There they are!” said Case.

“Keep still,” admonished Clay.

The boat drifted on, past the mouth of the creek, and
let an anchor drop silently into the water.

“I don’t know what we’ve struck, but we know that
wasn’t no coyote’s call,” declared Case.

“It had a human sound,” interrupted Jule.

“Listen!” warned Buck. “We’ll hear it again in a moment.
I thought I heard it then.”

“That was only rain,” explained Alex. “The first one
might have been that, too.”

At that instant, before another word could be spoken,
a great light flashed out, followed by a shrill scream.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`A BIT OF DYNAMITE`:

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   CHAPTER X

.. class:: center medium

   A BIT OF DYNAMITE

.. vspace:: 2

“That’s Tommy!” whispered Jule.

“But the light? Who turned that on?” Alex
whispered in reply to the suggestion.

“It doesn’t seem to be the thing to do—showing
a light just at this time,” Clay commented.

“Well, what’s the next move?” asked Case.
“Shall we board the boat? Or shall we wait for
the next move of the robbers?”

“Give him some Peter Pratt,” suggested Clay.
Rube and Buck, who had remained silent during
this conversation, nearly jumped out of the motor
boat when Jule opened up with:

“What are you doing in my boat? Get out,
and get out quick, or I’ll knock your block off!”

“Who was that talking?” asked Rube.

The boys snickered.

“Sounds like he meant business, whoever it is!”
suggested Buck. “Say, but he gave me a start!”

“You’ve got a heap of nerve, taking my boat
without my consent! I think you’ve got a
trimming coming!”

“Who’s doing all this talking?” demanded Rube.
“It ain’t his boat, nohow.”

Before anyone could reply, a figure, strongly
outlined against the light of the *Rambler*, rushed
to the deck and crouched down behind the railing,
from which position only his head could be seen,
his body being concealed by the framework of the
railing.

“What’s coming off here?” Jule’s voice went on.
“If you don’t get away from that railing, I’ll shoot,
and shoot to kill!”

Whoever the man was who had sought shelter
behind the railing, he was game. He never moved,
only the watchers could see the gleaming barrel of
an automatic.

“Now if Tommy would only lip in,” Clay
suggested, “we would have quite a menagerie. I
wonder if that fellow we see is the only man aboard
the *Rambler*?”

There was a fringe of bushes along the shore,
and, clearly outlined against the light of the prow
lamp, a figure could now be seen making his way
through the shrubbery in the direction of the boat.

The watchers being in the shadows were not
visible from the position occupied by the prowler.

“He’ll be aboard the boat in a minute if
something ain’t done to stop him,” remarked Rube,
“and then there’ll be a mix-up that will be worth
the price of admission.”

The two men had evidently been completely
deceived by the talk put up by Jule. They really
believed that another claimant for the *Rambler* had
put in his appearance.

“That talk you heard was made by Jule,”
explained Case. “He thinks nothing of being two or
three people at a time!”

“Not that talk in which the intruder was ordered
off the boat, under penalty of having his block
knocked off?” Buck answered.

Jule laughed softly.

“That’s the size of it,” he explained. “Made the
fellow get a move on, eh?” he added.

“How do you do it?” asked Rube.

The question was never answered, for Tommy
called for the attention of the entire company.

“Get off the boat!” he croaked. “Eat ’em alive!
He eats ’em alive! Out of the way!”

“What’s that?” demanded Buck. “Sounds like
the devil has come to town!”

The watchers could hear the man on the deck
swearing under his breath, and could see the man
prowling in the bushes advancing toward the
*Rambler*.

“Now’s the time to get the *Rambler* back,”
whispered Case. “I am positive there is only the person
in sight on board.”

“But where have the others gone?” asked Buck.
“There were six on board.”

“There is a man in the shrubbery,” said Rube.
“Well,” Case said, getting to his feet, “who’s
going to make the first break?”

“Look here,” Alex put in, “what’s the matter
with the rear deck? I can get to that in a jiffy.”

“Seems to me that you have all the fun,” Jule
expostulated. “Why don’t you give someone else
a chance?”

But Captain Joe settled the matter of priority in
his own way. He had been roaming about the
deck of the *Esmeralda* like a lost spirit ever since
the conversation had opened.

He evidently knew that he belonged on board the
*Rambler*, and was peeved at the idea of being kept
out of his rights. At any rate he sprang into the
river and struck out for the shore.

In a moment all was confusion on board the
*Esmeralda*. Knowing that the dog would be
recognized as the canine which had made the attack on
the robber at the bank of the river higher up, the
boys all sprang to their feet and started pellmell
for the railing of the boat. It was Rube who
stopped them.

“Now see here, boys,” he expostulated, “you’ll
only get cold lead in your systems if you make the
attempt to board the *Rambler* now. The robber
will see the dog coming and, doubtless, shoot at
him. The dog will give him about one shot, then
there’ll be a mix-up.

“The chances are about even the way I’ve got it
figured out, but I’m betting on the dog. He has
the speed and——”

Rube got no farther. The dog had by this time
reached the boat and mounted to the deck,
clearing the railing at one leap, aided by driftwood which
gave him footing.

The attack was so sudden that the robber fired
only one shot and that one an ineffectual one, and
then the dog was upon him.

“Come on, boys!” shouted Alex.

“And the grit,” continued Rube, picking up
the sentence, “and I’m bettin’ on the dog!”

There was no time to reach the *Rambler* by boat,
so the boys plunged into the river and started to
swim. But the man in the bushes had to be
reckoned with.

No sooner were the boys in the river than he
opened fire. In a moment, however, he turned his
attention to the *Esmeralda*, which had been left
unguarded.

Before the boys in the water saw what he was
up to, he was climbing over the prow of the boat.
Then it was too late, and, leaving his chum to his
fate, the man in the boat started the motor and
was soon around a bend in the river.

Buck gave a regretful look at the *Esmeralda* as
she disappeared from sight, but kept on toward the
*Rambler*. His regret was that someone had not
been left on the boat, but that was now a past
issue. The *Esmeralda* was gone, and would
undoubtedly be annexed by the pirates who had
captured the *Rambler*.

In the meantime, Captain Joe was having the
time of his life with the robber, who happened
to be the identical fellow the dog had sampled
up the river. It being necessary to leave someone
on board the boat, the fellow’s mates had chosen
him as the one to remain, he being still suffering
from the wounds made by the dog.

Alex was the first one to mount the deck of the
*Rambler*, and the sight he saw sent him off in peals
of laughter, in which he was soon joined by the
other members of the party.

Tommy, the parrot, having been long parted
from the dog, was standing erect on his back,
talking all the words he knew, which were not a few.
Teddy, the baby bear, was curled up a few feet
away, sound asleep.

Alex’s first act on gaining the deck was to lift
the robber’s revolver from the place where it had
been thrown in the struggle and place it in a
secure position on the prow.

Next he gave his attention to the robber, who
by this time was hurling all kinds of oaths and
imprecations at Captain Joe, who, by the way, paid
not the slightest attention to what was being said.

The dog had taken the robber by the back of
the neck, so his throat was in good working order,
and he filled the atmosphere of the rainy night with
such a collection of oaths as one seldom hears.

“Swear away if it makes you feel any better!”
laughed Alex. “You certainly are a peach at it.”

“Call the dog off!” roared the prostrate man.
“Wait till I get hold of him!”

“All right!” replied Alex. “I’ll wait as long as
you like, but in the meantime you’ll be eaten up!”

“For the love of Mike, call him off!” cried the
prostrate man. “He’s killing me!”

“That’s just the fate you deserve!” commented
Buck. “One of your chums stole my boat.”

“And the whole crew will be on top of us if we
don’t get a move on!” declared Case. “Let the
man up, and let’s get out of this.”

The fallen man was assisted to his feet, and
Alex rushed to the cabin to see what had become
of Paul Stegman. Much to his surprise he found
him there, alive and thriving.

“Hello, Paul!” the boy shouted. “You don’t
appear to be much the worse for your association
with the robbers!”

“Do you know what one of them did for me?”
asked Paul. “Bet you never can guess!”

Alex gave a number of guesses and then gave
it up.

“He set my leg!”

“What’s that?”

“Sure thing!”

Alex sat weakly down. This was too much to
believe.

“Yes, sir! He set my broken leg!”

“He must have been a surgeon, wanting
practice!” Alex said, with a wrinkling of the nose.
“I’ve heard of such people before now.”

“No, sir,” insisted Paul, with a shrug of the
shoulders, “he wasn’t any such thing. He was a
regular surgeon, duly qualified, and all that. Yes,
sir, he was a regular practitioner.”

“This thing is too good to keep!” exclaimed
Alex, ducking out of the cabin door. “I’ll have
to spread the glad tidings!”

When the boy got to the deck he found it in
confusion. Captain Joe was occupying the center
of the stage, with Tommy a close second. The
parrot was talking and the dog was barking.

In the distance the *Esmeralda* was shoving her
nose through the rain. The thieves, it seemed, were
not satisfied to let the *Rambler* go in that way.

Her cabin lights were ablaze, and her deck was
crowded with people. Her appearance at that point
effectually blocked the entrance to the creek.

Tommy was doing his best to scold the intruder
away, while Captain Joe was exerting himself to
get away from Clay, who had him by the scruff of
the neck.

“Giving a party?” asked Alex.

“Yes,” Buck replied, “and it’s likely to be a
necktie party before it’s over. The *Esmeralda* looks
right pert with all those people on board! I
suppose we’ll have to wade in blood to get out of this
hole they’ve got us into!”

“The *Esmeralda* is stopping,” said Case. “I
wonder what’s next on their program?”

A hail now came from the boat.

“Hello!” the voice said.

“Hello yourself!” came the reply.

“What you doing with that boat?”

The answer was a baying of the dog and another
scream from the parrot. The hailing party
consulted together for a second and then called out:

“Guess you’ll have to submit to capture, boys.”

“You don’t see anything green, do you?” was
Alex’s answer. “If you want us why don’t you
come and take us?”

“We can do that, too, but we thought we’d give
you a chance for your lives.”

“Never mind the chance,” Jule called back. “If
you have nothing more to offer, perhaps you’ll get
out of the way. We’re going to want the space
you occupy in about a minute. We’ve got business
down the river.”

“All right!” the robber answered. “Have it your
own way, but you must not expect any favors from
us if you keep up your impudent talk. We’ve had
about enough of that already.”

“Go as far as you like,” was Jule’s reply.

“It beats the Old Scratch that we have to get
into the clutches of river pirates wherever we go,”
said Case. “One would suppose that some one of
the rivers visited would be free of them.”

“Now,” said Clay, “suppose we give them a little
fireworks. It will be just the thing for their
systems, don’t you think?”

“Sure!” exclaimed Alex.

The boy ran into the cabin and returned almost
immediately with several sticks of dynamite in his
arms.

Buck and Rube did not wait for the stuff to be
placed on the deck. They began climbing over the
railing.

“Just you wait a second,” Rube began, “until I
get out of this boat! I’m not ready, yet, to lead a
procession to the cemetery! I prefer to live a spell
longer.”

Again a hail came from the *Esmeralda*.

“We’ll give you five minutes to decide!”

“That’s about four minutes too much!” shouted
Clay. “If you object to being blown to Kingdom
Come, just lie still when we are passing through
the opening.”

“Make ’em give up the *Esmeralda*!” said Buck.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`ALEX GOES FISHING`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XI

.. class:: center medium

   ALEX GOES FISHING

.. vspace:: 2

“Never thought of that!” Clay declared.

“Give ’em five minutes to vacate!”

It was Rube who made the suggestion. By this
time both Buck and Rube had climbed back into
the boat, and had gathered around the dynamite,
though taking good care to keep near the boat’s
rail, so they could leap overboard in case anything
went off prematurely.

“I don’t like that stuff, nohow!” Rube declared,
backing away, as Clay prepared to throw a stick.
“Why don’t you give ’em a chance to leave the
boat?” he added.

“I thought I’d give them a taste of the stuff
first,” was the reply. “Not enough to hurt—just a
little boat-rocker!”

“The five minutes are about up!” came a voice
from the *Esmeralda*. “What is your decision?”

“Here it is!” shouted Clay.

He threw the dynamite as he spoke against a
log that lay in the stream just under the bow of
the *Esmeralda*.

The boat rocked viciously for some time. Clay
waited for the motion to cease and threw again,
coming a little nearer the hull of the *Esmeralda* this time.

“How do you like it?” Case queried.

The only reply was a shower of bullets, which
bounded from the armor of the *Rambler* like so
many grains of rice.

An effort was now made to back the boat out of
the reach of Clay’s arm, but, the craft, having been
run into the creek prow first, this could not be
done without the person who attempted it coming
within the range of the boy’s steady aim.

“If you try that,” warned Case, “the boat will be
blown up! We have dynamite enough on hand to
do the business.”

“The best way out of this scrape,” put in Alex,
“is for you to stop shooting and also get out of
the boat! If you don’t, the craft will be destroyed.
Do you get that?”

“The first man who tries to get to the
anchor-chain will regret it,” Clay put in.
“That will be the signal for the blowing up
of the *Esmeralda*.”

“The best thing you can do is to quickstep off
the boat!” Buck suggested. “The lads have you
too dead to skin.”

“And no shooting after you get ashore, mind,”
added Rube.

Had there been a man in the crew with the nerve
of either one of the boys, or of Rube or Buck,
there would have been “doings,” but all feared
the sticks of dynamite in Clay’s hands.

While the outlaws consulted together, not
knowing what course to pursue, one of their number
fired a shot at Clay.

The boy staggered and would have fallen had not
Alex sprang forward and caught him. Blood was
pouring in a stream from a wound in his arm,
and he sat down behind the railing to catch his
breath.

“Close call, that!” he said, with a faint smile.

Buck seized the dynamite, which had fallen to
the deck, and hurled it across the water in the
direction of the *Esmeralda*.

It struck the bow of the boat and shattered it to
splinters. The next instant marked an exit from
the boat.

The robbers fell over each other getting out. In
a minute all were out, and the *Esmeralda* lay
rocking in the river.

“Turn the motors on—quick!”

Clay was on his feet, with the blood still
pouring from the bullet hole in his arm, making
suggestions for the guidance of the others. It was well
that he was quick to speak.

Before the motors could be brought to use, a
storm of bullets was flying at the *Rambler*.

“Turn off the lights,” said Clay.

Then he fainted from loss of blood and the
pain of the wound.

The command was obeyed, the *Esmeralda* was
taken in tow, and the *Rambler* moved slowly into
the stream.

As the *Rambler* drew up to the *Esmeralda* and
passed her, Buck sprang aboard over the wrecked
prow and switched off the lights. All was now in
darkness, but the robbers continued to fire as long
as the boats were in sight.

Half a mile down the river the lights were
switched on again, and Clay’s wound examined.
The boy was still unconscious, an artery having
been severed.

While the examination was going on a hail was
heard from the east shore, and the motor boat
checked her speed.

“What’s wanted?” asked Buck.

“Want to come aboard,” was the reply.

“Are you alone?” was the next question. “Stand
out where I can see you.”

The stranger moved to a position where the rays
of light fell full upon him, revealing a slender man
of twenty-five or under. He was neatly dressed
in black, and wore a slouch hat.

“Why do you want to come on board?” Buck
demanded.

“To get out of the rain,” was the answer. “My
shoes are wet through, and I’m chilled to the
bone.”

“Shall we take him aboard?” Buck asked.

“Sure thing!” said Rube, who was the only other
person on the deck, the three boys being in
attendance on Clay. “I reckon we can handle one man!
Besides, the fellow really looks civilized. Anyhow,
we’ll give him a chance to tell his story.”

“All right!” Buck shouted back. “We’ll give
you a chance to dry out, but you’ll have to swim
for it.”

“I fail to see how I could get any wetter than
I am now!” answered the stranger, plunging into
the river and striking out for the boat. “In fact, I
think the river water an improvement over rain
water.”

The stranger climbed up on deck and shook
himself.

“When I had the honor to associate with the
crew of the *Rambler* before,” the man began, but
Buck seized him by the shoulder and ran him into
the cabin.

“You look to me,” he declared, “like the man
who recently did a job of surgery. ’Cause why?
There ain’t been no other people on board the boat,
except you and the river pirates and the boys.”

Paul struggled into a sitting posture and almost
shouted out his recognition of the stranger.

“Just in time to save a life!” he said. “Clay
must have bled to death in another hour!”

Without speaking a word, the surgeon stripped
off his coat and set to work on the wounded boy.
The men gathered about the lad held their breath
while awaiting the surgeon’s verdict.

“A bad wound,” he finally said.

“Is it fatal?” asked Alex in a whisper.

“Not necessarily so,” was the answer. “If I only
had a tourniquet,” he added, “the job would be
an easy one, but the boy has lost considerable
blood, and——”

Alex interrupted the surgeon by shouting that
there was such an instrument in the medicine box,
and dashing off to fetch it.

“I guess I’m getting dippy,” the boy said, as he
laid the instrument down. “I knew that the
tourniquet was in the medicine box. I’m sure getting
balmy in the crumpet.”

This was slang of the worst kind, but the boys
were too excited to remark it. The surgeon took
the instrument and put it in position, remarking as
he did so that the boy had already lost enough
blood to run a mill.

“Can you bring him through now?” Jule asked
eagerly.

“It is simply a question of good care,” was the
reply.

The surgeon worked over the lad for a long time
before he returned to consciousness. When at last
he opened his eyes there was a smile in them.

He was still very faint, but he was very nervy.

“Where did you come from?” he asked the
surgeon in a whisper.

The surgeon laughed.

“I came out of the rain!” was the reply.

“That’s Theodore Rand, formerly of the pirate
craft *Rambler*,” said Paul. “He’s the quickest man
at a broken leg I ever saw! I’m going to have
him promoted. He’s going to be Chief Surgeon
in the army before he dies!”

“Were you really aboard the *Rambler* before?”
asked Case.

“Of course he was,” interrupted Paul. “Didn’t
he set my broken leg? That’s some surgeon!”

“But I don’t see how you got away from the
pirates,” Jule exclaimed. “They don’t let go when
they get hold of a man like you. They cling to
him like a puppy to a root!”

“Well,” said Theodore, known forever thereafter
as “Thede,” “you see, the outlaws had need of my
services. They had a man shot through the lungs,
and I came along in my skiff just in time to be too
late. They rewarded me by stealing my
instruments and putting me off the boat just below the
spot I set this boy’s leg.”

“Then you must have had a long walk in the
rain,” Case remarked. “And you must be good and
hungry.”

“I could eat a rhinoceros right now!” said the
surgeon. “I have been waiting for an invitation
to eat.”

Alex sprang to his feet.

“That makes me think that I haven’t had a square
meal since I left the *Rambler*!” he exclaimed.
“Now, if the river thieves haven’t cleaned out the
refrigerator, I’ll get you a supper that’ll make you
sit up and take notice!”

It was pretty poor picking in the refrigerator, but
there was plenty of tinned goods, and the boys
managed to get a very satisfying meal. Alex
washed the dishes under protest!

“Where do you want to get off?” asked Case, as
the *Rambler*, still with the *Esmeralda*
in tow, headed toward the Gulf of Mexico.

“I’m going to any old point in the South,” was
the answer. “You see,” explained the doctor, “I
didn’t do very well at the town I set up my office
in, so I took my instruments and started to walk
to the next place.

“I was having rather a pleasant time of it when
hailed from the *Rambler*. It seems that there had
been a row on board, and that one of the gang had
received a bullet through the lungs.

“Of course I did what I could for the man; but
that was not much. He died just before I was
put off the boat.”

“And was buried on the river bank,” explained
Paul. “That must have been about dark.”

“It seems longer ago than that,” laughed the
surgeon. “Anyway, it appears to me that I’ve
been walking in the rain ever since the Deluge!
Now I haven’t got any more tools to work with
than a rabbit! And the scamps took what little
money I had with me, too!”

“That is easily fixed,” said Rube, producing his
roll. “Just have one of the boys go good for it,
and tell me how much you want!”

“I’ll go good for $10,” declared Case. “The
doctor has certainly earned that much.”

Rube peeled off a bank note and passed it over
to the surgeon, who took it hesitatingly.

“But this is a $20,” he explained.

“That’s all right,” Rube announced. “You may
pay me the other $10 when you get on your feet.”
The surgeon expressed his thanks, and Rube put
away his roll and asked Case to slow down so he
could board the *Esmeralda*.

“You see, Buck,” he explained, “we’ve got to be
getting a move on if we get the *Esmeralda*
in shape again.”

“Tell you what,” Alex proposed, “suppose we
have a fish breakfast. I just know there’s
bullheads in this river.”

“Bullheads in the Rio Grande!” scoffed Jule.

“Just you wait!” replied the boy.

So Alex and Jule went over the *Rambler*’s
side after fish.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`A QUEER PASSENGER`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XII

.. class:: center medium

   A QUEER PASSENGER

.. vspace:: 2

There was a faint flush of dawn in the east
when the rowboat left the *Rambler*’s side and struck
out into the river. The motor boat had been slowed
down to the pace of the other, and the surgeon
and Case watched the boys from the deck.

As the prow light was still burning, their view of
the scene was exceptionally good. The rain had
ceased, and the morning stars were shining. The
day promised to be a fine one.

Clay was asleep when the rowboat was launched,
so the two boys had nothing to worry over. They
had every confidence in the surgeon, and believed
in the ultimate recovery of their chum.

“It is a trifle light to fish for bullheads, but the
burning of the prow light will make the fish think
we have a torch especially for their benefit, so
they may bite after all!”

It was Jule who emitted this bit of wisdom about
fish thinking, and Alex laughed him to scorn.

“Fish can’t think,” he laughed. “They haven’t
the machinery for thought in their make-up.”

“Much you know about fish!” Jule answered.
“I’ve seen fish that would come to the surface
when their master whistled! And there is a fish at
Lincoln Park which——”

There is no knowing how much longer the fish
story would have continued if just at that instant
Alex had not seen his bobber, making little circles
in the river.

“You’ve got a bite, Alex,” Case shouted from
the deck of the *Rambler*. “Look out or
he’ll pull you under!”

“Never you mind about his pulling me under!”
Alex answered. “This is a pet fish, and he knows
his business! When he gets done playing with the
hook, he’ll come to the surface and give himself
up, like a good little fish!”

But the fish did not come to the surface and give
himself up as he was scheduled to do! Alex leaned
too far over the edge of the boat and went down
to meet the fish!

Jule doubled up with laughter, and Case gave
advice from the deck of the *Rambler*.

“Dive under the fish and bring him to the
surface when you are on your way up!” he shouted.
“You don’t often get a chance to embrace a live
fish!”

Alex paid no attention to this advice, but kept
his hold on the line. He took time, however, to
wrinkle a freckled nose at his tormentor. He
seized the rowboat by the prow, and drew
himself up.

“I always take a bath in the morning,” he said,
“it’s good for the health.”

“Do you always employ a fish to pull you in?”
asked Jule. “I should think you’d run shy of fish!”
“See! He never got off the hook!” exclaimed
Alex. “Didn’t I explain to you that this was a
pet fish? I’ll have him giving a song and dance
in a second.”

“I hope the song and dance will be given in
the frying pan!” contributed Case, speaking from
the deck of the *Rambler*. “I’m hungry enough to
eat stones out of the river.”

“Just you wait a second and I’ll have this one
simmering in the frying pan!” Alex said, getting a
better hold on the line by winding it around his
wrist. “Wonder what kind of fish this is? He’s
a corker for weight, anyway.”

When the “fish” was at last brought to the
surface it proved to be a long and vexatious snag!

“Hi!” laughed Case, from the *Rambler*’s deck,
“how do you work it when you want to exercise
that fish? Pet of yours, eh?”

Alex scratched his head and joined in the laugh.

“Anyway,” he declared, “if there’s a fish in the
Rio Grande I’ll introduce him to you! We’ve got
to have that fish breakfast!”

By this time Rube and Buck, having inspected
the *Esmeralda* and discovered that the injury to the
prow was not as serious as at first supposed, had
joined the surgeon and Case on the deck of the
*Rambler*. The two boats were now tied together,
so that the prow of the *Esmeralda* ran flush with
the aft deck of the *Rambler*.

“What’s that about a fish breakfast?” asked
Buck.

“You just hold your horses for a couple of
minutes, and you’ll see!” was Alex’s reply. “I’m so
hungry, right now, that I’m turning black in the
face.”

“How would you like to have a good, steady
job driving a pie wagon?” questioned Case. “That
might suit you as long as the pie held out! Of all
the nice, good-looking, long-distance pie-destroyers
you take the cake.”

For reply Alex wrinkled his nose and pointed
to Captain Joe, who had left the deck of the
*Rambler* for the river, and was now swimming round
and round the rowboat.

“He’s taking his morning bath,” he said. “Go
away, dog, don’t spoil my fishing,” he added, as
Captain Joe attempted to get into the boat.

“Captain Joe!” called the parrot. “Good Captain
Joe! Come to me, you cur dog!”

If the dog had any objections to being called a
cur dog he said nothing on the subject, but
continued to swim round and round the rowboat.

“What’s the matter with the dog?” Alex asked,
moving over to a side of the boat where he could
get a full view of the dog, “I wonder if he isn’t
going crazy.”

He called to the dog, but he continued to swim
round and round the boat.

“Well, of all the fool capers that I ever came
across, you certainly are the whole biscuit! What
do you see down there in the river, Captain Joe?”

The thing Joe saw took the form of a man. So
far as the boys could see, he was rather neatly
dressed in clothing which was wet with the wash
of the river.

He was clinging to the side of the rowboat when
first seen, but let go his hold and struck out for
the shore. Evidently an expert in the water, he
was halfway to the land before the occupants of
either the *Rambler* or the rowboat recovered from
their amazement and thought of stopping him.

Taking advantage of the darkness, the fellow
had traveled for perhaps an hour, perhaps two,
in the bottom of the rowboat. Then, when the
boys had use for the boat, the only thing he could
do was to take to the river.

They remembered that the rowboat had not been
used since the robbers had been driven off with
dynamite. The man might be a river pirate for
all any member of the party knew.

The *Rambler*, being nearer to the swimmer than
the other boat, at once turned her prow in his
direction, but he reached shoal water before they
overtook him, and disappeared in the thicket.

“Wouldn’t that frost you?” exclaimed Alex,
bending over the edge of the boat and looking as
if he expected to see more men where the swimmer
had released his hold. “Say, but that man,
whoever he is, can go some in the water!”

“I should say he could!” said Jule. “Where did
he come from? Where did he go? If that act of
his was a disappearing one, he certainly did it
right!”

“I guess the *Rambler* obstructed our view,”
explained Alex. “I’d like to know how long we’ve
been carrying passengers, anyhow.”

The *Rambler* now returned from her fruitless
quest of the stranger and anchored by the side of
the rowboat.

“How long have you been leaking passengers?”
Case demanded. “How many more have you got
concealed in the boat?”

“Go ahead and get that fish!” said Rube, rubbing
his stomach. “I feel like the Mammoth Cave!”

“Lock him up in a bakery, then, for I don’t
think there’s any fish in the blooming river. If
he’s hungry enough to chew buns, turn him loose
on em!

It was Alex who gave this advice. For the next
few minutes he busied himself making a closer
examination of the boat.

“Look here,” he exclaimed, “who is there in
this party that can read Greek? There’s a lot of
queer writing on the rear end of the boat. I’d
like to know what it means.”

All was excitement after this announcement, and
Case and Buck climbed down into the rowboat.

The writing was in pencil, and was already half
obliterated.

“Can you make anything of it?” asked Case,
bending over the side of the boat.

“Not a thing,” was the reply. “I think it must
be Hebrew! Anyway, it’s some sort of warning.
Or it may be a threat.”

“Much you know about it!” laughed Case.

“What about that fish breakfast?” Rube called
out from the motor boat. “I’m so hungry I could
eat nails.”

“Well, I presume that means me,” Alex replied.
“If I’ve got to catch a fish for breakfast, you’ve
got to get out of this boat. How can I get a fish
with all you people on board?”

“But we haven’t read the writing yet,” urged
Jule.

“That can wait for a time. Rube will be crying
his eyes out in a minute! Anyway, the writing
will keep.”

“No, it won’t,” Buck cut in. “If you’re ever
going to read it, it strikes me that now’s the time.”

“All right!” declared Alex, “if you want to
delay the fish breakfast, give me a knife, and I’ll
cut the letters out.”

“Better use a saw,” advised Buck.

“Happy thought!” said Alex. “But where’s your
saw? Do you happen to have one in your pocket?”

Case clambered to the deck of the motor boat
and soon returned with a saw from the tool-chest.

Buck took the tool and fell to work so vigorously
that the rim of the boat, where the writing was,
soon lay in his hand.

“Now you can order your fish breakfast as soon
as you like,” he said, putting the piece of wood
he had removed into a pocket ... “I suspect that
Rube will be referring to it until he gets fed.”

“You bet he will!” came from the deck of the
*Rambler*.

“Could you eat a piece of cherry pie?”

Jule asked the question, and was answered in a
quick affirmative. Then he said he’d see about
getting one when he got to El Paso!

“You’re a fraud!” laughed Rube. “I don’t want
anything to eat, anyway.”

“No, you don’t!” Alex said, with a wrinkle in
his nose. “I’ve got a photograph of you refusing
food!”

Case and Buck soon left the rowboat for the
deck of the *Rambler*, and Alex went ahead with
his fishing, with such good success that a fine string
was carried on board the *Rambler*.

“Now,” said the lad, “if you’ll get me some
butter, I’ll see what I can do with these fishes!
You put the ‘*-es*’ on when you want to put on
style.”

“Look at this translation Paul made of the
writing on the boat! He says it’s French.”

Buck came out on deck with a paper in his hand
and handed it to Case. The boy took it and read:

“The meaning of ‘a l’outrance’ is to the death.”

“Who furnished the translation?” questioned
Jule.

“Paul did,” was the reply.

“Can anyone give the meaning of the
translation?” asked Case.

“Why, it means just what it says, ‘to the death,’”
said Jule.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” asked Buck.

“It may be either,” was the answer.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`ON THE MEXICAN SIDE`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XIII

.. class:: center medium

   ON THE MEXICAN SIDE

.. vspace:: 2

Alex’s fish breakfast was a culinary success, but
over it hung the shadow of that threat. But was
it a threat?

The boys discussed it from every possible angle
only to come back to the original question:

Was it a threat or a promise?

“Well, he’ll have a fine time catching the
*Rambler*,” said Case. “He’s got to go some if he does.
And he’ll need an aeroplane in order to do it.”

“He may have an aeroplane secreted in his
pocket,” Jule said.

However, two days passed and they heard
nothing of either the river thieves or the stranger.
When El Paso was reached Buck and Rube
prepared for departure.

“You boys started out with accommodations for
four,” said Buck, “and you’ve kept collecting about
every person you came across until you’ve doubled
the crew.”

“I can’t see what we should have done without
you three men,” Case answered. “In the first place,
we never could have got through without Rube’s
roll! He was perfectly willing that it should be
used, and we accommodated him.”

“Then what should we have done without Thede?
There’s a man that knows how to set a leg or bind
up an artery! We certainly couldn’t have left him
out. I think, when you come to size the whole
thing up, we carried just enough people to do what
had to be done. How does that strike you, Alex?”

“Right you are,” answered the boy addressed.
“We haven’t been a bit crowded, and we’ve had
plenty to eat. I wish Rube and Buck were going
on with us.”

“I’d eat you out of house and home,” laughed
Rube. “I presume you boys noticed that I have
quite an appetite.”

“Just about the size of mine!” said Alex.

El Paso was the scene of great activity a year
ago, when the Rio Grande was the dividing line
between the United States and Mexico. Streets
were crowded with men in uniform, and restaurants
and saloons contributed their full quota to the
general confusion.

The city, however, was quieter now, and the boys
had no difficulty in finding their way about. Troops
still guarded the Mexican line, but they were
inconspicuous.

Clay had, in a measure, recovered, though he was
still weak. He was able to sit on deck and watch
the moving panorama which is to be seen in all
frontier cities.

The first trip taken by Case and Alex was to the
bank, where they found the money waiting for
them. As the telegram had instructed the cashier
to pay the money over “without identification, at
the risk of the remitter,” the boys had no difficulty
whatever in securing it. They paid Rube in full,
and insisted on his taking an extra $20, for being
“a good fellow in the time of trouble.”

The *Esmeralda’s* prow had been repaired on the
way down, and she was now in perfect condition.
The boys saw her disappear around a bend in the
river with sincere regret.

They had been friends in need, and “a friend in
need is a friend indeed,” as the old saying runs.
But they had not seen the last of either one of
them.

Thede, the surgeon, decided, at the earnest solicitation
of the boys, to remain on board the motor
boat. Clay was still in a feeble condition, and
Paul’s broken leg needed constant care, so it was
decided that the doctor should remain on board.

Captain Joe, the parrot, and even Teddy Junior,
the bear cub, seemed to extend a welcoming paw
and claw to the doctor and Paul. Provisions for
the remainder of the trip were laid in at El Paso,
and on the second day the *Rambler*, as trim a boat
as ever plowed the waters of the Rio Grande, lifted
her anchor and sailed away.

Those were glorious days for the *Rambler* crew.
The time was late in May, and at that season
Nature is at her best in the South.

The boys fished and loafed about the deck of
the motor boat until Clay was almost well again,
and Paul insisted on being taken to the deck to
watch the life on the river.

They heard no more of the river thieves, and
everything moved along as placidly as if they had
never interfered with the current of their lives.
But this was only for a time.

One brilliant night when the *Rambler* was given
just sufficient motion to give steerage way, when
Alex and Jule were on watch, the former asked,
abruptly:

“Was it a threat or a promise?”

“I’ve been thinking the matter over,” was the
answer, “and I find there is not a thing the river
robbers had to give or offer. So we may as well
cut out the promise part. On the other hand, we
know pretty well what the devils would do to us if
we again came into their power.

“Therefore,” he continued, “we don’t welcome
a meeting. Still, if it comes, I don’t think we’ll
dodge. That wouldn’t be good form, would it
now?”

“No,” replied Alex, “I don’t think it would.
But we ought to do everything in our power to
avoid a collision with them. Some day, if we don’t
watch out, we’ll get the worst of it. We can’t
expect to win out in every encounter.”

“Right you are!” declared Jule.

“I wonder how those Greasers, over there, live?”
asked Alex. “Dirty and greasy as ever, I presume?”

“You bet!” answered Jule.

“Some day when we are not on watch, and the
boat is lying at anchor. I’ll stump you to go and
see,” continued Alex. “Some of the sights in a
Mexican town must be worth seeing.”

“You’re on!” answered Jule.

“I have the meaning of that French writing,”
decided Alex, after a long pause. “It is this: ‘Wait
until I catch you!’ How’s that for a free
translation?”

“It’s free enough,” laughed Jule. “Only I don’t
see how we can wait, as the river insists on bearing
us along on its noble and rather muddy bosom.”

“I’ve got a hunch,” said Alex soberly, “that the
next time we run afoul of the river thieves it won’t
be so easy to get away. In other words, I’ve got a
premonition of approaching danger.”

“Nonsense!” Jule exclaimed. “You’ve got a case
of indigestion, if anybody should ask you! I
thought at the time that you were making rather
free with that potato salad.”

“Oh, all right! Make fun of the hunch if you
want to, but it is a really, truly,
warranted-not-to-shrink-or-fade-in-the-washing hunch. Just you
mark that down and keep for future reference.”

Captain Joe now came out to Alex and stood
rubbing his nose against the boy’s hand.

“Look here!” the dog appeared to be trying to
say, “if you’ve got anything important coming off,
produce it. I have a few hours which are hanging
rather heavily on my hands.”

“Want to go to shore, Captain Joe?” Alex asked.

The dog said that he did as plainly as ever a dog
said anything and Alex got to his feet with a yawn.

He whistled about the deck for a time with hands
in pockets, as if about to say something which he
was positive would not meet with the sanction of
his chum. At last, however, he found words for it.

“I suppose I’ll have to go and give the dog a run
on the bank. That seems to be about the only way
I can keep him quiet.”

“No, you don’t!” laughed Jule. “If you get
ashore that will be the last of you until someone
comes and looks you up. The last time you got
away——”

Alex, followed by the dog, sprang to the rail and
leaped into the river. Pausing only long enough
to turn a laughing face toward his chum, very much
wrinkled as to nose, the boy, closely followed by
the dog, struck out for the Mexican shore.

“I’ve a good mind to jump in after you!” Jule
called out. “You have all the fun!”

“Come on in!” Alex called back. “The water’s
fine! I’ll just give Captain Joe a run on shore and
come right back.”

Jule hesitated only an instant. What boy can
resist a night in May, when the moon shines, and
the waves make music on the beach? It is a shame
to tempt a boy with a stream of water which ripples
and murmurs on such a night.

Jule was tempted—and fell.

The Rio Grande is quite wide at the point where
the boys entered the water, and the *Rambler* was
about in the center of the stream, making the swim
a long one. The lads, however, struck out bravely
and soon landed on a swampy tongue of land which
formed a peninsula at that point.

“Say, but this is great!” cried Alex. “I wish
Case was here to enjoy it with us.”

Captain Joe seemed to think his frolic in the
moonlight about the correct thing. He dived under
the surface and pretended to catch the boys by their
legs; he brought chips and driftwood from the
stream and invited the boys to play tag with him.

At last he lay down on a bit of grass, signifying
that his play spell was over, and that he would like
to return to the boat.

But there was no boat in sight.

Then, and not until then, did the boys recollect
that the boat was in motion—under steerway
motion, it is true, but even steerway motion will
sometimes carry a boat a long way, especially when the
boys who should be guarding it are giving their
attention to something else.

“The boys will wake up and come back after us,”
said Jule.

“Of course they will,” agreed Alex.

Alex and Jule waited a long time, but there were
no signs of the boat coming back after them.

“If we remain right where we landed,” Jule
finally said, “they will be certain to find us.”

“That would be all right if they knew where we
landed, but they don’t. The thing for them to do
is to look along the shore until they see us. What
a fool trick that was, leaving the boat unguarded.
Unless someone on board wakes up, they may sail
half the forenoon. I feel like giving myself a swift
kick.”

“I reckon you don’t feel that way more than I
do,” replied Jule. “I suppose the boys will think
we have deserted them.”

“Or that we have been lured from the boat and
murdered,” added Alex. “What’s the matter with
you now, Captain Joe? What have you found in
the bushes?”

The thing which showed in the bushes where the
dog was looking was the pointed hat of a Mexican.

“Look there!” Alex said, not in the least alarmed,
but with the notion that in some way the man could
assist.

The next moment a gun was leveled at the two
boys and a voice said in excellent English:

“Throw up your hands!”

As the boys were without weapons, the command
was instantly obeyed. Then four rough-looking
men came out of the thicket in single file and stood
in front of the astonished boys.

“What is the meaning of this?” Alex demanded.
“Is it a hold-up? If it is, we haven’t got a cent.”

Daylight was coming now and the moon was
sinking in the West. The faces of the four men
were in the shadow, but still it was plain to be seen
that they were not out for a morning stroll.

The man who appeared to be the leader of the
party gave a significant motion and instantly both
boys were turned bottom side up while their pockets
were being examined.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`A SERIOUS SITUATION`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XIV

.. class:: center medium

   A SERIOUS SITUATION

.. vspace:: 2

It was six o’clock when Case awoke that
morning. He was dressing when he discovered that the
boat was not running.

He listened but could hear neither voices nor
footsteps on the deck. The other boys were still
sleeping soundly, and he did not awaken them.
Thede, the surgeon, was stirring, and the boy asked
him:

“What’s the matter with the boat?”

“I hadn’t noticed anything the matter with her,”
was the surgeon’s reply.

“She has stopped,” explained Case.

“Then we’d better see what’s up,” responded
Thede.

The two finished dressing and went out on deck.
Then they saw what was wrong. The *Rambler*,
with no one to guide her, had kept on a straight
course until she had reached a bend in the river,
and had then tried to climb out on the bank.

How the boys slept through all that followed was
a mystery.

The chain which connected the motor with the
rudder was broken and the boat had stopped when
the power went astray. There were numerous
other things the matter with the boat—enough to
keep her in the repairer’s hands for a full day.

Case stood looking at the broken rudder for some
minutes before he made the discovery that the
surgeon and himself were the only persons on the deck.

Then he whistled for the dog, but no Captain
Joe came at his call. He took a seat on the railing
of the boat with a look on his face which told as
plainly as words could have done how disgusted he
was. He was not at a loss to account for the
condition in which he found things.

“The boys have left the boat, taking the dog with
them,” he said. “But what I want to know is why
they didn’t come back.”

“They left the *Rambler* when she was in
motion,” said Thede, “and there is a mystery about
it which can be explained only by the boys
themselves. You can see for yourself that the rudder
was never broken except by accident—by collision
with the bank.”

“It seems that way to me,” answered Case.
“Now the question is, what has become of them?”

“And that is a question that I give up,” answered
the surgeon. “You see, we don’t know where to
look,” he continued. “We slept soundly all night,
and the boys may have left the *Rambler* as early as
midnight, for all we know.”

That was a serious time for what remained of
the *Rambler* crew. The uncertainty of the
situation was baffling.

Clay and Paul were soon awake, and the former
walked out on deck to discuss the best means for
finding the truants.

“If we only knew what time they left the boat,”
Clay said, “we could start in on the search with
more confidence in the ultimate result. But that is
just what we don’t know,” he added, with a
discouraged look on his pale face.

“If I knew that the young scamps were safe and
sound,” Clay continued, “I should be in favor of
leaving them alone for a couple of days. We’ve
got to draw the line somewhere, and I think it
should be drawn at the desertion of a boat in
midstream.”

“I’m in favor of that,” Case said, eagerly, “but
perhaps we should learn what excuse they have for
their strange conduct before deciding what course
to pursue.”

“The first thing to do is to find them,” said the
surgeon.

“Correct!” said both Clay and Case in a breath.
“The first thing is to find them.”

The *Rambler* was beached on the American side
of the river, and very soon a delegation of loafers
and waterside characters gathered around.
Suggestions were offered in plenty, but none were to the
point.

The loungers were principally Mexicans,
black-eyed and swarthy of skin. They were clad in
nondescript garments of all sorts, and they gazed
longingly at the trim little motor boat.

They talked fair English and were profuse in
their offers of assistance, but their covert glances
at the *Rambler* were not to be mistaken. Their
eyes lit up with greed whenever they fell upon it.

“Where can we secure boats in which to cross to
the other side of the river?” asked Case, reluctant
to use the rowboat belonging to the *Rambler*, and
realizing that the boys would be without the means
of transportation if they had crossed to the opposite
side.

If they had landed on the American side, a
searching party would be effective.

The man questioned pointed to a rude rowboat
lying on the bank of the river not far away.

“Will that serve your purpose?” he asked.

“Will it float?” asked Case, in doubt as to the
buoyancy of the craft.

“Like a bird in the air,” answered the fellow.
“But the motor boat? Do you leave it? It will
be perfectly safe. We are all honest men, Señor.”

“Oh, of course,” answered Case, noting with
disgust the greedy glance the fellow cast toward the
motor boat. “No one doubts that you are all
honest men. However, we have to leave two men on
the spot, and they may as well guard the boat.”

The fellow gave a quick glance at Clay, who was
still on deck, as if estimating the amount of
resistance he could offer in case the boat should be
taken, and smiled.

“Oh, yes, Señor, we are all honest men,” the man
continued, with a leer. “You may leave the motor
boat here with the assurance that you will find it
upon your return.”

“How much for the use of the boat?” asked
Thede.

“A trifle,” said the other. “Perhaps twenty
dollars.”

“It is not worth it,” replied Case, in a tone of
disgust. “I will pay you five, though that is more
than the old tub is worth.”

The boat was indeed a “tub.” The sides were
broken and it leaked badly. The owner, however,
insisted on the price named and would not consider
a smaller sum.

At last, tired of the seemingly endless bickering,
and anxious to be away, Case consented to the
terms and the rowboat was brought to the side of
the *Rambler*.

Case took Clay into the cabin of the *Rambler*
and warned him to be on his guard.

“We may be away three or four hours,” he said,
“and you must, under no circumstances, leave the
boat for a minute. My opinion of these men is
not a favorable one. I think they want the motor
boat. Don’t shoot unless you have to, but shoot
to kill if that should be necessary. A shot fired in
defense of property is lawful.”

“All right,” Clay replied. “I hate like the dickens
to have you go, but I suppose there is no help
for it. Hurry back and we’ll repair the *Rambler*
and get out of this rotten hole so quick that it will
set the heads of the natives swimming.”

“Right you are,” responded Case, and with an
additional word of warning the leaky boat was
pushed into the river.

After the departure of Case and the surgeon the
boys sought the cabin of the *Rambler*. They had
no idea how long the boat would be gone, so they
decided to make themselves as comfortable as
circumstances permitted.

The half-breeds gathered in a group on the bank
of the Rio Grande and consulted together for a long
time. The conversation was still in Mexican, and
of course the boys, being ignorant of the language,
could not understand a word of it.

As a matter of fact, the tongue spoken was a
mixture of Mexican Indian and Spanish, an
especially hard combination.

“I wish I had the use of my arm for about five
minutes,” Clay moaned, “I’d make a scattering up
there on the river bank.”

“And if I had the use of my leg for the same
length of time, there’d be doings,” observed Paul.

“Well, we are poor old cripples,” Clay went on,
“and can’t help ourselves. One thing we can do,
though, we can shoot the tar out of anyone who
attacks us. That’s one consolation.”

There was silence for a time, each boy being
occupied with his own thoughts. Clay was first to
speak.

“What is your notion about the disappearance of
Alex and Jule—mysterious, eh?”

“Decidedly so,” was the reply.

“Still,” Clay continued, “the fact that Captain
Joe went with them gives the affair the appearance
of an excursion to the shore. If they left the boat,
clothed as they were, intending to be absent only
a few minutes, the boat, being under steerway,
might be too swift for them and get beyond their
reach before they realized what was going on.
Anyway, it is a bad mix-up, and I wish we were safely
out of it. Now, what’s that?”

“That” was a movement of the mob on shore.
They were headed for the river bank and looked
dangerous.

“Here’s where the automatics come into play,”
Paul suggested. “I can shoot, if I can’t walk.”

But right here a new factor entered the case.
“Tommy,” the parrot, opening the conversation.

“Seven men on a dead man’s chest! Ho! Ho!
Ho! And a bottle of rum!”

The parrot, wandering from perch to table, from
locker to window ledge, lifted up his voice in an
uncanny jumble of words until the cabin rang again.

The voice was hoarse yet shrill, and the
Mexicans paused in wonder and amazement. They, of
course, were unaware of the existence of the
parrot, and the voice came to them as a distinct shock.

They paused and retreated a few steps and
listened. The voice of the bird went on, hoarser
and lifted higher than before.

“Ho, ho, and a bottle of rum!”

The Mexicans turned and fled, almost falling
over each other in their eagerness to put as much
space as possible between themselves and whatever
it was that was making the talk.

At what seemed a safe distance they paused and
gathered in a group for the comparing of
impressions regarding the voice which all had heard.
Some declared it to be the devil, and some said
that there was a man who had not been seen
concealed in the cabin.

While the arguments were going on the boys were
not idle. The revolvers and guns were placed
where they could easily be reached, and
ammunition belts were buckled on.

The river pirates had not disturbed the arms
while they were in possession of the *Rambler*, so
the weapons, which they intended to appropriate
later on, had not been molested.

“They seem to be losing their courage!” Paul
exclaimed. “It is a good thing! If they come an
inch nearer, they’ll receive the contents of this
automatic.”

“They will soon be here,” Clay reasoned. “When
they discover that it is only a bird they are running
away from, they will rush the boat. You will have
to shoot fast then!”

“All right!” was Paul’s reply. “I’ll shoot fast,
and shoot to kill. I think they are getting ready
to charge the boat right now! Shall we go to the
deck and get behind the bullet-proof railing?”

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`DEAD IN THE FOREST`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XV

.. class:: center medium

   DEAD IN THE FOREST

.. vspace:: 2

When Alex and Jule were seized they naturally
put up a hard fight, but the men who had attacked
them were muscular, and, besides, had the
advantage of taking the lads by surprise, so they were
compelled to submit to the indignity of being
searched.

After they came to their feet again, and after
their heads had stopped whirling, Alex’s first
motion was toward his pistol pocket. Then he
remembered that the automatic had been left on
board the *Rambler*. They were absolutely without
weapons of any kind.

The outlaw saw the motion and smiled grimly.

“So,” he said, “you carried weapons. Some fancy
little toy, I presume. What would you say to a
weapon like this?”

As he spoke he displayed a revolver of
enormous size. It was, however, patterned after an
old model, and not at all similar to the improved
automatics carried by the boys.

Alex, however, pretended great admiration for
the gun and asked the privilege of taking it into
his hands.

“I’d like to have one like it,” he declared. “How
much do they cost?”

All this, of course, to draw the attention of the
outlaws away from Jule, who was getting ready to
spring Peter Pratt.

“What does this mean?” asked Jule, in as hoarse
a voice as he was able to assume.

The outlaws, who had seated themselves on the
turf, instantly sprang to their feet.

“Throw up your hands!” went on the voice.

But, instead of obeying this command, the men
dropped to the earth again and prepared to fight.
The attempt was a failure.

The boys, however, were on their feet, and the
instant the outlaws crouched down they were off,
being closely followed by the bulldog, who had all
along looked with disfavor upon the proceedings.
Captain Joe hesitated for a second, looking
longingly at the exposed leg of one of the outlaws and
then sprang forward.

In a minute the outlaw was on his feet,
thundering great oaths at the dog, and doing his best to
release his leg from the teeth of the animal. His
efforts proved ineffectual, serving only to throw
him to the ground again, where he lay foaming
with rage.

“Call off the dog!” he shouted, writhing about
on the turf in agony. “He is killing me!”

Hour after hour Jule had spent teaching the dog
to obey his Peter Pratt, and now it came into play.

“Let go, you cur!” he cried. “Don’t kill the
man! Let go, or I’ll have your hide for a foot
rug!”

By this time the outlaws, regardless of their
companion’s oaths and cries for help, were crouching
lower in the bushes, mindful only of that first
command to “throw up your hands!”

Captain Joe, in obedience to the command,
released his hold on the outlaw and started after the
boys. No sooner was the man released from the
jaws of the dog than he drew a weapon and fired,
the bullet cutting a long furrow in the dog’s side.

“I wish I had a gun with me,” said Alex in a
rage. “I’d teach that robber better manners!”

“Come here, Joe!” Jule exclaimed. “I don’t think
he is seriously hurt,” he added, as Joe came
limping to his side.

“Find out as quick as you can,” advised Alex,
“while I see that the men in front keep in the
underbrush. They won’t hold the position long.”

As the man who had ordered them to throw up
their hands did not appear, the outlaws were
already growing suspicious. They cast inquiring
glances at each other and moved about restlessly.

In the meantime Jule was making as close an
examination of the dog’s wound as it was possible
to make under the circumstances.

“There’s an ugly cut in his side, but that will
soon heal,” he reported. “The thing to do now is
to get away from here—quick! We are without
weapons, and the outlaws will soon begin to smell
a rat. They are getting suspicious already, and the
fellow Joe bit is prowling about with blood in his
eye.”

Owing to the underbrush which obstructed the
view, the fellow could not locate the boys for a
moment, but he was soon on the trail, vowing
vengeance at every bound. Of course the boys took to
their heels, but the blood from the dog’s side
furnished a clew which was not to be mistaken.

“Something must be done or the man will catch
us!” Alex panted. “Suppose you try Peter Pratt
again?”

“Nothing doing!” Jule answered. “Do you want
the other outlaws to know that they have been
tricked?”

“That’s a fact,” replied Alex. “They would
know that the man had shifted his position, even if
they did not suspect trickery. But something must
be done and done quick! Poor old Captain Joe is
nearly all in.”

Although the lads were running at a swift pace,
they were still hampered by the dog, who appeared
to be growing weaker with every leap he took. The
footfalls behind came on regularly and swiftly.

“Go on ahead with the dog,” Alex whispered at
last. “I’ll stop that fellow! Judging from the way
he acts, he is running blindly, and it ought to be
easy to trip him. He’ll see the trail of blood and
follow that.”

Without waiting for Jule to give his consent to
this plan, Alex dropped down in the shrubbery.
The outlaw came forward on a run, passing the
boy without a knowledge of his presence there,
which was not at all to the liking of the lad.

The boy had planned to trip the fellow as he
went by.

The next best thing was to take after the fellow,
and so divert his attention away from the wounded
dog. Captain Joe must be saved in spite of
everything!

The other outlaws, becoming suspicious that they
had been tricked, were now on their feet, running
toward the point which was the goal of Alex, the
fourth outlaw and the dog.

It looked pretty serious for Alex, situated as he
was between the three men at the rear and the one
man in front. For a moment he trailed the man
ahead, not knowing what course to pursue.

Then a plan came to him—a plan which might
result in placing weapons in the hands of Jule and
himself. It was a desperate chance to take, but it
appeared to be the only one worth considering at
the time.

He slackened his pace so as to permit the three
in the rear to approach, and then dropped into the
underbrush. The men came on at good speed and
were promptly tripped.

They were running almost breast and breast, so
they fell in a heap. Before they could get to their
feet again Alex had the huge revolver out of the
pocket of the leader and had the three covered.

“That’s right! Hands up! That’s the game you
made us play a short time ago!”

Alex could hardly conceal a grin of triumph as
the outlaws hastened to obey the command.

“Take the weapons from your pockets and throw
them on the ground!” was the next order.

“Oh, see here, kid, isn’t this going too far?” said
the leader, with a smile. “We were only joking
with you.”

“That’s all right,” was the reply. “But, you see,
I’m not joking with you. Throw the weapons
down!”

The words were spoken so peremptorily that the
outlaws lost no time in complying, and the weapons
clattered to the ground together. Alex at once took
possession of them.

In the meantime Jule was making as good time
as was possible, hampered, as he was, by the dog,
who insisted on stopping every few rods to note
the progress made by his pursuer. The fight was
not yet all out of the dog.

At last he stopped abruptly and refused to budge.
While Jule was doing his best to force him along
the sound of pursuing footsteps ceased. The boy
listened intently, but could hear nothing of either
Alex or the men he believed to be in pursuit.

“What’s coming off now?” he mused. “If this
is a trick, I’m in bad, being without weapons and
with this confounded dog on my hands. Captain
Joe, why can’t you behave yourself?”

Captain Joe gave an extra tug at the collar and
broke away, disappearing almost immediately in
the thick underbrush, with Jule in hot pursuit and
a trail of blood showing where the dog had gone.

The dog was out of sight in a second, but the
trail of blood, instead of leading directly to the
rear, wound off to the right. The trail was
growing fainter every minute, which demonstrated that
the wound was closing, or that it was becoming
filled with clots.

While Jule hesitated about following on after the
dog, thinking that he had gone crazy, the sound of
a revolver came to his ears, and the pursuit was
taken up again.

The lad reached an opening in the shrubbery just
in time to see the dog and the outlaw in what seemed
to be a death struggle. The man had evidently
fired one shot at the dog and been too late to fire
again. He had been seized by the dog and thrown
to the ground.

His revolver lay by his side, just beyond his
reach. The fellow was already in the agonies of
death.

Jule sprang forward, but it was too late. The
blood which was scattered liberally over the rank
grass told him that. The dog had severed the
jugular vein.

“I don’t blame you, Captain Joe,” the boy said,
kneeling by the side of the fast-failing outlaw,
“not a little bit! He shot you while you were running
away from him, and you got even in the only way
you knew; still, I wish you had let him live.”

There came a gurgle of blood at the throat, the
wounded man struggled for a second for breath,
and all was over.

Jule laid the head of the man back reverently.
Whatever he had been in life, death had canceled.
The record was of his own making and must be
judged by One wiser than the combined wisdom
of earth.

Captain Joe, to tell the truth, did not appear in
the last downcast by the manner in which the
incident had terminated, for he frisked about the boy
as if expecting to be praised for what he had done.
Seeing that words of commendation were not likely
to be forthcoming, he darted away down the river.

Jule followed on behind, leaving the dead outlaw
to be cared for later on. He reached an opening
in the tangle of underbrush just in time to witness
Alex’s capture of the three outlaws.

When he approached the spot where Alex stood
the lad was facing the three men about.

“What’s doing?” he asked. “Likely pair and a
half you have there! How did you manage it—the
capture, I mean?”

“They just came and gave themselves up!” was
the reply. “Got a rope or anything to tie ’em up
with?”

“Nothing doing in that way,” answered Jule.
The leader of the outlaws now appealed to the
newcomer for release.

“This lad,” he said, “is inclined to take the
incident which took place recently rather seriously.
I can’t make him understand that it was all a joke.”

“Joke, was it?” asked Jule. “Well, the joke cost
the life of your chum!”

And the boy related the scene he had just
witnessed.

Just how it was done the boys never knew. One
minute the three men stood facing the lads, the
next they were crunching their way through the
underbrush. And Alex had not fired a shot. He
had been too busy listening to Jule’s recital of the
scene in the forest.

The boys knew the outlaws would lose no time in
making an effort to regain possession of the
weapons, so they took to their heels.

“Why didn’t you shoot?” demanded Jule.

“I was too much interested in the story you were
telling,” was the panting reply. “I think I must be
a chump!”

The river was not far away, and the boys struck
out for it with all the running ability they possessed,
halting only when they stood on its southern bank.

The outlaws had not yet made their appearance,
and the boys fancied they, too, were running only
in an opposite direction.

“Now what?” asked Jule. “We can’t swim
across, can we?”

“I should say not!” was the reply, as Alex
threw himself down on the turf. “To tell the truth,
I’m about all in! Do you see anything of Captain
Joe?” he added. “I presume the fool dog followed
the outlaws away.”

Jule grinned, thinking of the figure cut by Alex
as he stood with the huge revolver, threatening the
three men.

“I wonder if the gun is loaded?” he said, taking
it into his hand. “I have known men to carry empty
weapons. For the love of Mike, it sure is empty!”

The boy rolled over and over on the grass,
making faces at his chum and laughing softly.

“Nice time you would have had if they had
turned on you!” he said tauntingly, but just at that
moment the chum was too busy watching the dog
to pay the slightest attention to him.

The dog had again made his appearance on the
bank of the river showing all his teeth, and back
of him came the outlaws!

They were laughing uproariously, because they,
too, remembered that the weapons were empty, all
save the one in possession of the outlaw who had
set off in pursuit of the dog. They had discharged
them and forgotten all about it.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`JULE IN GREAT DANGER`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XVI

.. class:: center medium

   JULE IN GREAT DANGER

.. vspace:: 2

Case and Thede made the most of the leaky boat,
but the most was not fast enough.

“If we only had the *Rambler*, and had it in as
good condition as it was at midnight, we could soon
learn something of the missing boys, but there is
no knowing how far the boat sailed after they left
it, and so it is all a guess,” said Case, as he set to
work bailing out the boat. “I guess this trip
settles the excursions of the *Rambler*.”

Thede laughed. When Case was blue he was
always ready to cancel all the dates made for the
motor boat.

Thede let him sputter away until he was tired of
grumbling, and then suggested:

“The chances are that the *Rambler* ran only a
short distance after the boys left her. If the boys
have the good sense which they have previously
shown, they will follow on down the river, and so
make the distance we shall be obliged to travel in
this old tub all the shorter. In fact, I am looking
for them at every bend in the river. We ought to
meet them in a few minutes now.”

“But if they are on the opposite shore, we are
going the wrong away about it,” replied Case. “The
river is very wide here, and we never could paddle
this old tub across it in the face of the current. I
don’t see what the boys ever left the boat for. But
some people never will learn by experience.”

Thede’s view of the case was certainly a hopeful
one, but it was hours before they saw any signs of
the lads. Then Case saw Captain Joe running
along the river bank barking furiously.

“There’s the first signal!” Thede exclaimed,
turning the prow of the boat toward the south shore.
“And the dog seems to be in trouble. He seems to
be wounded and is just about all in.”

“It strikes me that we had better get to the shore
just as soon as possible.”

As Case spoke Alex came out to the river bank
alone. Jule was nowhere in sight, and Alex’s
clothing was so torn that he looked like a ragman.

“Alex has been up against something pretty
strong to give that tired look to his face,” Thede
exclaimed as he turned the boat toward the south
shore. “Did you ever see a more disreputable
human being?”

“Never!” was the reply.

The old tub of a boat struck the beach at last,
and was promptly boarded by Alex, who was
gasping for breath.

“Did you bring your automatics?” was the first
question.

“Sure!” was Case’s answer.

As the boy spoke he took a weapon from his
pocket and handed it to the lad.

“What’s doing?” he asked as he did so. “And
where is Jule?”

“Come with me and I’ll show you where Jule is,”
was Alex’s reply. “Walk softly! There are others
with him. When I give the word you just rush,
and rush to some purpose.”

Without knowing what they were to meet, Case
and Thede swept down into a thicket and, in
obedience to a motion from Alex, drew up for a
minute and waited.

The three outlaws had captured Jule and were
about to burn his feet if he did not tell where his
chum was.

“Oh, he’ll answer fast enough as soon as he feels
the flames tickling his toes,” the leader said. “We’re
going to exterminate this nest of vipers, and don’t
you forget it!”

“Go as far as you like,” Jule answered. “I still
refuse to tell. Nice boy I’d be, if I betrayed my
chum!”

“We’ll see about that!”

One of the outlaws was evidently opposed to
what was about to be done, for he drew the leader
aside and whispered in his ear for several minutes.
At the end of that time the leader shook his head
and turned, with a sharp order, to an evil-faced,
scowling outlaw who appeared equal to any piece
of deviltry.

The man addressed was quick to obey the
command. He took a handful of matches from a
pocket and proceeded to light one of them.

All the time there was a grin upon his face which
told how much he enjoyed the assignment.

Jule did not believe that he would be deserted
by his chum. He had no idea in what shape the
assistance would come, but he was perfectly well
satisfied that it would come. Alex had broken
away from the robbers and taken to his heels and
would be sure to return at the critical moment.

As Jule saw the preparations for torture going
on he wished that Alex would hasten to the rescue,
but he had no doubt of the final result. Alex was
loyal.

“Now,” said Case, taking out his automatic, “you
see what the intention is. I have a notion that it
is the deliberate intention of the devils to torture
the boy to death. How should he know where
Alex is? It is a subterfuge to make the act appear
more humane. This being the case, what ought we
to do to the outlaws?”

“If you don’t decide on something pretty soon
Jule will get his feet cooked!” interposed Alex.
“What ought we to do with the devils? Kill ’em,
I say!”

“It does seem that drastic measures should be
adopted,” the surgeon put in. “Of course, we can’t
decide what to do with them while they are still at
large, but we can make up our minds. It ought to
be an easy thing to catch them.”

“Oh, we’ve got ’em now!” Alex added. “None
of them has a weapon in sight! It will be just like
taking candy away from babies! See! they are
taking his shoes off! Mother of Moses! What was
that? Looked like a white flash!”

Captain Joe was once more in evidence.

The dog had appeared astonished at the inaction
of the rescuing party and reached the conclusion
that if anything was done he must do it himself.

As the dog charged in between the leader and
the man to whom the duty of burning the boy’s
feet had been assigned the former drew a revolver
and fired, missing the canine by a foot or more.
The others drew their revolvers, too, but did not
discharge them.

A peremptory order came from the bushes and
they dropped the weapons as if they had been red
hot.

“Up with your hands!”

Almost before the words were out of the
speaker’s mouth, the firearms were on the ground. But
the leader still retained his huge revolver and was
about to use it when the dog seized him by the leg
in a vise-like hold.

The revolver dropped to the ground while the
man tumbled about in agony, saying many things
against the character of the dog. To all of which
the dog, who was performing what he regarded as
a sacred duty in defending the boy, paid not the
slightest heed.

“Call him off!” the leader cried. “If you don’t
want him killed, call him off!”

By way of reply Alex picked up the long weapon
and used it to such good purpose on the head of the
fellow that he was soon quite unconscious. In
fact, so enraged was the boy that there is little
doubt that the man would have been beaten to
death if Case had not interfered to prevent his
murder.

“What are you doing?” Case demanded. “Do
you want to kill the man? I think you would
better take a rest and cool off a little.”

“Look what was done to Jule by his orders!”
answered the lad, still struggling to continue the
attack. “Killing is none too good for the likes of
him!”

“Save him for the hangman!” advised Jule as
he cut the cords which bound him and regained his
feet. “We’ll tie the bunch up and if they get away
all right. If they don’t, why that’s all right, too!”

“We ought to kill him,” was Alex’s rejoinder.

“Oh, let him live,” laughed Case. “We can
afford that much, seeing Jule escaped with whole
feet. The chances were against that at one time.”

“What shall we do with the others?” asked the
surgeon. “They are all equally guilty, I presume.”

“The fellow who lighted the match deserves to
have his head knocked off,” Alex answered. “Did
you notice the diabolical grin on his face when
given the order?”

One fellow protested in broken Spanish that he
had been opposed to the leader all the time, and it
was finally decided to bind all three outlaws and
leave them on the river bank.

“If we should leave the one who interfered in
the interest of mercy,” Thede insisted, “he would
release the others as soon as our backs were turned,
so we may as well treat all alike.”

So the outlaws were tied up good and tight, and
the four took to the boat again. It was necessary
to bail the row boat out frequently as it was still
leaking badly, but in time the long stretch of river
was passed and the boys came in sight of the
*Rambler*.

The last thing the boys heard of the outlaws was
a volley of curses from the lips of the leader of the
party, who had regained consciousness and was
stating in strong words what he would do to the boys
if they ever came in his way again.

“What’s doing on the *Rambler*?” Jule asked, as
they came in view of the motor boat.

There certainly was “something doing,” for the
deck swarmed with men, and only the cabin was
held by Clay and Paul. When the boat came
nearer the boys could hear the voice of the parrot
ordering the men off the boat.

“Cut it out, cut it out!” he cried. “Get back, get
back! You ain’t wanted here! Cut it out!”

“Tommy seems to be doing his part, all right,”
said Alex. “I wonder how long this has been
going on?”

“How are we going to get on board the
*Rambler*?” asked the surgeon. “All the seats seem to
be taken.” The men who had taken possession of
the boat were now shaking their fists at the boys in
the rowboat and offering to beat them up on the
most liberal terms.

“The boat now belongs to me!” one of the river
thieves shouted, waving his arms in the air. “I
take it as abandoned property.”

“We’ll soon show you!” Alex shouted back.

“Go chase yourself!” shouted Jule. The
rowboat kept steadily on her course toward the
*Rambler* and some of the more timid of the occupants
of the deck began climbing over the rail, but others
stood their ground, making a display of firearms.

The boys were all armed now, Case having
thoughtfully provided himself with arms for all,
and for a moment it looked serious. When the
boats touched, however, the *Rambler* was
abandoned by those who had taken possession of her
and not a shot was fired.

“Had a little mix-up?” asked Case.

“It looked serious about the time you arrived,”
Clay responded. “They had us cooped up in the
cabin, and there is no knowing what would have
happened if you had not come.”

“Now,” said Alex, “suppose we celebrate with a
good, square, all-to-the-good meal! It seems about
a month since I had anything to eat.”

“You’re always hungry,” commented Case.

“Always hungry!” responded Alex. “Look here!
If you get up without going to bed, and butt into a
crowd of river thieves, and come near having your
feet burned off, wouldn’t that make you hungry?
I’ll bet you it would!”

All this time the men on the shore had been
shaking their fists and shouting out oaths and cuss
words.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`ON MEXICAN SOIL AGAIN`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XVII

.. class:: center medium

   ON MEXICAN SOIL AGAIN

.. vspace:: 2

This continued for perhaps an hour, the boys
paying little attention to the racket made on the
river bank. Then a shot was heard and the
ragamuffins disappeared as if by magic.

Directly a detachment of United States soldiers
made its appearance. The soldiers were warmly
welcomed and Alex insisted on giving them all the
food he had prepared.

“It’s only to cook more,” he argued.

“But I’m hungry enough right now to eat one
of the outlaws,” Jule declared.

“If we’d waited a few minutes longer,” Alex
laughed, “you might have had feet fricassee! That
was a close call, young man! We got there in the
nick of time.”

In time the soldiers were all fed, and then the
boys began the work of getting the dinner over
again.

The lads were warmly thanked for their
hospitality.

“You may get into a place it won’t be so easy to
get out of,” said the young lieutenant in charge
of the squad. “If you do, and we are anywhere
within reach, don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

The boys thanked the lieutenant for his offer, not
even dreaming of the time when the words so
casually spoken were to be made good.

“They about cleaned us out,” said Alex,
glancing ruefully at the trampled greensward where the
soldiers had eaten. “I don’t know what to do now!
The tinned goods are about gone, and there aren’t
any vegetables to speak of.”

“What’s the matter with falling back on the
river?” asked Clay, getting out his fishing tackle
with his one well arm. “We have taken many a
fine meal from the river, and I don’t think it will
go back on us now!”

“Who’ll catch the fish?” asked Jule. “I’m
actually so hungry that my stomach is wishing my
backbone good afternoon, and I don’t feel equal to
the effort!”

“Suppose we get the *Rambler* off this mud bank
first?” Thede suggested.

“That’s a good idea!” Alex cried out.

“Wonder we couldn’t have thought of that when
we could have had the help of the soldiers!”
grumbled Case.

“Kicker!” laughed Jule. “It will be an easy job
to get the boat into the river again. She went
against the bank with very little force, I take it.”

The lads who were not crippled worked together
to such good purpose that the boat was soon in the
water again. Not a thing was broken except the
steering-gear and that was soon repaired.

“Now, about that fish?” Case said. “Who’s
going to try for it? I might be one of the boys to
make the effort.”

“I think you had better remain on board,” said
Alex, “and let Jule and I see about the fish. We
are the only old and original fishermen in the
party!”

“Go to it, then,” Clay agreed, “but don’t get into
any nest of pirates and get your feet burned!”

The boys were glad to be away on the water
again, for there were things they wanted to talk
over. Jule was the first one to open the
conversation.

“Alex,” he began, uncertain how his communication
would be received, “what is going on on board
the *Rambler*?”

“Why do you ask that?” came the quick reply.
“Have you noticed anything unusual?”

“About Paul and Thede,” Jule went on, “I have
a notion that an understanding of some sort exists
between the two.”

“And Rube, too?” asked Alex.

“Yes, and Rube also!”

“What do you know about it?” demanded Alex.
“What have you seen—or heard?”

“You have suspected, then?” asked Jule.

“Sure!” answered Alex.

“Well?”

“There is certainly something between them,”
was the reply. “We must keep a sharp lookout.”

“But it can’t be any plot to capture the
*Rambler*,” suggested Jule. “They have had
plenty of chances to do that.”

“How did they get together so soon?” said Alex.
“Why, Rube was scarcely on the boat before it
began.”

“So you noticed that, too, did you?”

“Of course I did!” was the answer. “When you
see a man acting as if his very life depended on that
of a boy, and that boy apparently a stranger,
anyone would suspect. The fellow was too eager to
know all about the case! Then, when Thede came
on board, didn’t you think he got to the side of
Paul pretty quickly?”

“Yes, I noticed that, and thought it very strange,”
was the reply. “Now, what’s going to be done
about it?”

“All we can do is to watch,” declared Alex.

“And where does Buck come in?” Jule asked,
after a thoughtful pause. “You noticed that he had
an electric boat handy when we needed one, and that
the boat made pretty good time for an ordinary
river boat! I’d just like to get to the bottom of
this thing!”

“And Rube always had his roll out,” added Alex.

“But he explained that by saying that he knew
all about us boys and knew that we were as good
as gold,” Jule cut in.

“Well,” laughed Alex, “we’ve got into another
mystery! I’d like to take just one plain adventure
trip.”

“The mystery is all right,” Jule concluded, after
rather a lengthy pause. “We shouldn’t know what
to think about if there was no mystery.”

“Perhaps you are right,” was the reply, “but I’d
rather not have the mystery so dense! There’s
something going on, and that’s no joke. But this
ain’t catching fish!”

“That’s right!” Jule agreed. “The others will
be getting hungry. As you say, all we can do is to
wait for developments and watch Thede and Paul.”

“Paul appears to be such an innocent little chap
that the very idea of spying on him seems
preposterous,” added Alex. “Still, the innocence may all
be assumed.”

“I dislike to think that,” was Jule’s reply.

The boys talked as they fished, but could make
nothing of the situation. As a matter of fact, Rube
had appeared out of the darkness that first night in
rather a mysterious fashion.

And he had expressed great solicitude for the
wounded boy. And he had always been ready with
his money. And, another thing, he had had such
a pile of it!

And Buck had had the *Esmeralda* quite ready on
short notice! Of course the episode of Alex being
treed by the bear was entirely unexpected and just
happened.

It interfered somewhat with the plans of the
party, and somewhat with Rube’s bank roll, but, as
Alex declared, “it made the company all the
tougher, and did no harm in the long run.” It
was only incidental, and did not count for or against
Thede or Paul.

The lads fished while they discussed every phase
of the matter, but at last they were obliged to give
it up.

“We’ll have to watch and wait,” Jule finally said.
“If there is mischief afloat, it will show itself in
time.”

And with this they had to be content.

The *Rambler* was running downstream very
slowly, so as not to get ahead of the rowboat; still,
as the boys took their time, doing more talking than
fishing, it gained on them, and finally turned a bend
in the stream and passed out of sight.

“Where’s the *Rambler*?” asked Alex, looking up
from the contemplation of a fine string of fish.

“I guess she passed out of sight around that
bend,” was the impatient reply. “Somehow that
boat seems to delight in leaving us behind.
Wonder why she didn’t slow up when the boys saw that
she was passing us?”

“We’ll catch her in two jerks of a pig’s tail,”
replied Alex, laying down his fishing tackle and
picking up the oars. “There does seem to be a
fatality about the thing, though—the way she sails
calmly away and leaves us!”

The boys had spent a longer time than they had
suspected in the discussion of the mysterious
movements of the others, and the row was a long one.
When they finally came in sight of the boat they
were surprised to see no signs of life on board.

And they were amazed at the speed which she
had gained. The lads looked at each other with
questioning eyes.

“There’s something wrong!” almost shouted Jule.
“The *Rambler* is running away from us!”

“That’s right!” was the quick reply. “Do you
think we can catch her at the pace she is going?”

“Never!” was the discouraged reply.

There was silence for a moment, a silence broken
only by the rippling of the Rio Grande and the call
of a bird a-wing. Then Alex made a hopeful
suggestion.

“The river makes a long bend just below,” he
explained, “and, if we can get to the bottom of the
turn, perhaps we can catch her. Nice thing, to
run away and leave us like this!”

“There is evidently something wrong on board,
though I can’t for the life of me see what it is,”
Jule answered.

“If we cut across this point of land, we’ll have to
come back for the rowboat,” suggested Alex.

“Provided some river character doesn’t see it
first we may find it,” wailed Jule.

“Well, there’s nothing like trying,” Alex
returned.

The boat was turned toward the left bank of
the stream, but in a few seconds’ time, before the
boat had proceeded more than a few feet, Jule, who
was at the helm, changed her course so as to make
the right side. In answer to Alex’s questioning
look he said:

“The current sweeps across to the opposite shore
after we round the bend. The *Rambler* will
naturally follow that.”

“That’s right,” was the reply, “the south side for
us. How would you like to bump into the river
thieves again? Say, kid, but that was a close call
for your feet!”

“Well, as long as they didn’t accomplish their
purpose, I fail to see why we should be
everlastingly sobbing over it.”

The boat’s keel soon grated on the south shore,
and the boys left her, pausing only long enough
to cast a parting glance at the trim little craft
“The chances are that we shall never see the
boat again,” Alex remarked.

“Rats!” was Jule’s reply. “If we find everything
all right on board the *Rambler*, why can’t we come
back and get her? I have a notion that the boys
thought we were a long time catching these fish, and
sent the boat ahead faster than usual just to give
us a scare.”

“That’s all right,” replied Alex, “but I’ve got a
hunch that you are wrong. Case would never sail
away from his breakfast,” he added with a laugh,
“and I don’t think there’s much left on board in
the eating line.”

“What about the fish?” Jule asked. “We may
as well tote them along, don’t you think?”

“Of course,” replied Alex. “We ain’t going to
leave this nice mess of perfectly good fish in the
boat. There may be people along here who like
fish.”

The lads lifted the string of fish out of the
rowboat, and, taking them in hand, struck across the
point of land toward the river.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`A SLIPPERY CUSTOMER`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XVIII

.. class:: center medium

   A SLIPPERY CUSTOMER

.. vspace:: 2

The Rio Grande makes a long bend where the
boys left it, and almost returns upon itself after
winding in and out for many miles. The land is
swampy in places as the river approaches Painted
Cave, but mountains show, too, and the country is
without any population to speak of. Its general
features are rugged.

As the lads alternated between rocky soil and
swamp, they had little leisure for conversation. It
took about all their strength and agility to make
their way, leaping, now, over pools of water, now
climbing over rocky elevations.

The Southern Pacific runs close to the river
here, and the boys could hear the trains moving
along the line, on the American side. Now and
then they caught sight of moving cars.

“I’m pretty nearly all in,” Jule complained, as
they halted on a dry elevation to catch their breath.
“I don’t suppose we could have chosen a rougher
country than this if we had looked for a thousand
years! It’s fierce!”

“Oh, it’s good enough—for a mountain-climbing
goat!” Alex answered, wrinkling his nose. “What
do you think about our being able to catch that
boat?”

“I give it up!” Jule said, beginning to whistle.

He broke off after a minute and remarked:

“In the light of recent developments, what do
you think of the situation? Clay and Case are true
as steel, and, between them, they ought to be able
to put Thede and Paul on their backs, especially as
the latter has a broken leg!”

“What’s got into you?” demanded Alex. “You
talk like Case! And Case in his bluest moments!
I’ve not given up yet. Thede and Paul are all right!
I’ll bank on it!”

Jule laughed heartily.

“So will I!” he said. “I’ll bank on it, too! If
there is any mischief afloat, they are not in it.
Only, I wish they would come out into the open,
and tell us frankly what it is they are up to. It
seems to me that that would be the honorable way.”

“Let’s not pass judgment until we know all about
it,” replied Alex, taking up the string of fish and
going on again.

The way was even rougher than before, now, and
the lads were soon obliged to stop for a breathing
spell. In the distance they now could see the Rio
Grande, shimmering under the setting sun.

“We’ve got to make better time if we connect
with the *Rambler* before night sets in,” Jule said,
wiping the sweat from his forehead. “If there ever
was a rockier road than this, we have never found
it I think we would better dump the fish. They
are a good deal of a burden to carry.”

“There they go!” Alex exclaimed, suiting action
to the word, and tossing the fish down a rocky
incline. “I wish we had some of them cooked!
I’m so hungry that I could eat two pirates!”

“Well, here we go, in light marching order!”
volunteered Jule. “If you get there before I do,
just tell ’em I’m a-coming!”

The boy hummed the words of the old song over
to himself, and assumed a cheerfulness he did not
feel. It was fast growing dark, and the way was
rocky, with pools of river water in places where the
rocks pushed back from the shore.

And so, the lads pressed forward, with Jule still
humming his tune and Alex laughing himself red
in the face at thought of the plight they were in.

“Might as well laugh as cry,” was his comment
on the situation.

At last they came to smoother ground, with the
river showing under the setting sun, and paused
to study the scene.

Directly their glances, following the windings of
the stream, came upon the *Esmeralda*! They
regarded each other with eyes which asked many
questions but found no answer.

“How did that boat get here?” asked Alex. “We
left her far up the river.”

“Don’t ask me!” was the reply.

“Well,” continued Alex, “it’s up to us to find
out!”

The boat lay rocking in the river only a short
distance from where the boys had halted. The
prow light was on, and the craft gave other
indications of occupancy, so the theory that she had
broken loose and drifted to where she lay was not
to be thought of.

The motor boat lay close to the right bank of the
stream, and the question how she got there could
not be easily answered, so the lads made haste to
gain the little landing where she was tied.

The Rio Grande is a very shallow stream, often
spreading out over a large stretch of country.
Indeed, it is navigable for boats of medium size only
below the city of Matamoros.

Therefore Alex and Jule were obliged to wade
out to the boat when they came opposite her. Their
first sight of the deck was rather a surprise.

Instead of showing excitement, it was calm as a
morning in May. Buck sat on the railing of the
craft, with his back toward the shore, pointing out
the beauties of the landscape to Rube, who was
standing not far away.

They both turned face about when the noise
made by the boys in climbing to the deck attracted
their attention, and advanced to meet them with
hands extended.

“This sure is a sight good for sore eyes!” cried
Rube, and the greeting of Buck was not less
friendly.

“Now, will you explain just how the *Esmeralda*
come to be here?” Jule said, after greetings had
been exchanged. “We left her a long way
upstream.”

“And how is it that we find you here, out of
reach of the *Rambler*, and walking across country?”
asked Buck.

“That’s just the point,” Alex answered grimly,
“we haven’t seen the *Rambler* for several hours,
and are walking across country to try and head her
off!”

The boy thought he saw a quick glance of
understanding pass from Rube to Buck, but he could
not be certain.

Then he explained about the fishing trip and the
flight of the motor boat. Rube and Buck listened
attentively, but with the air of men who had heard
all that story before.

“And so,” Buck said, at the completion of the
narration, “you want to catch the *Rambler*?”

“That’s precisely the idea,” answered Jule. “But
you haven’t told us yet why you are here. You
must have passed us on some dark night, when
there was no one on watch.”

“You are taking it for granted that the *Rambler*
has been passed,” laughed Buck.

“Well, has she?” questioned Alex.

“Yes, she has, and under the most peculiar
circumstances,” was Buck’s reply. “She had another
visit from the man who left the ‘To the Death’
written on her rowboat.”

“But I don’t understand,” exclaimed Jule. “How
did he overtake us, and why did he run away?”

“Perhaps your curiosity will be satisfied before
the end of the trip,” Buck replied, significantly.
“By the way, here comes the motor boat we were
speaking of.”

As he spoke he pointed to the *Rambler*, already
drawing up to the *Esmeralda*.

“Do they know about our crossing the point to
come out ahead of them?” asked Alex. “If they
don’t I’ll give them a surprise.”

“Go to it, then,” laughed Buck.

Both boys hid under the rail of the boat and
waited for the crew of the *Rambler* to speak. Both
boys were giggling at the thought of the joke they
had on the other boys.

“Boat ahoy!” came the call.

“Boat ahoy yourself!” was the answer.

“Come aboard!” cried Buck. “I have something
I want to show you. It’s a peach!”

“Not a really, truly peach?” demanded Case’s
voice.

“You’ll see what it is when you come on board,”
replied Rube with a chuckle.

The boat drew up alongside and both Case and
Thede crossed over to the deck of the *Esmeralda*.
Then Alex and Jule sprang out and seized them.

At the termination of a friendly struggle, when
all four were out of breath, the surgeon held Jule
off at arm’s length and claimed to be inspecting him
with great gravity.

“You’re the boy,” he finally said, “who went out
to catch fish for starving men! Give an account
of yourself!”

“Oh, the explanations ought to come from your
own side!” said Jule, struggling to get away. “We
didn’t sail away and leave you.”

“So that’s it, is it?” laughed Thede. “Well,
under the circumstances, you are forgiven, but
don’t do it again!”

“What about this desertion of us on the rolling
deep?” asked Alex. “You’ve got to square that,
you know!”

“Well, then, here goes!” replied Case, his face
taking on a serious expression, “as soon as you boys
got well out into the river, we felt the boat give a
little dip to one side, but thought nothing of it. We
must have been drifting an hour or more when
we heard a rustling in the cabin, and Captain Joe,
who had been growling at the side of the boat for
the better part of half an hour, ever since he woke
up, in fact, grew furious.

“Then he sprang through the open window which
leads to the after deck and disappeared in the river.
The jarring of the boat we had felt came from
the impact of a human body against it! The dog
had followed the intruder into the stream!”

“Did he get him?” asked Jule and Alex, in a
breath.

“He did not,” was the answer.

“Too bad!” Alex answered. “That dog isn’t
any good. If he had been he wouldn’t have slept
when the boat was invaded!”

“Is that all the story?” asked Jule.

“Well, we followed on after the fellow until
we were around a bend in the river, and then came
on, thinking that you boys would find us, never
thinking that we should find you here,” replied
Case.

“What do you think that fellow means by
following the *Rambler*?” asked Jule. “For no good
purpose, I’m certain!”

“Did he leave any writing on the boat
anywhere?” questioned Alex. “You know what he left
the last time he paid us an unfriendly visit. I’d
like pretty well to get him by the neck!” he added,
with a tightening of the fists which boded no good
to the fellow, whoever he might be.

“And now,” Jule cut in, “will you kindly explain
how those on this boat knew that the stranger had
paid the *Rambler* a visit on his way downstream.
There is something mysterious about this whole
business! Something I can’t get to the bottom of!”

“And I’d like to know when you passed us!”
said Case, looking at Rube.

The giant only grinned.

“Out with it!” the lad commanded.

“Well,” was the reply, “I suppose I’ll have to tell!
When I said the *Rambler* had been passed, I didn’t
mean that we had passed her in the original
channel of the Rio Grande. We took a side channel!”

“A side channel!” exclaimed Jule. “We saw no
side channels! Where is it?”

“Just above the route you boys followed there
is an island. Didn’t you notice it?”

“We thought it was nothing but a false alarm,
leading nowhere,” replied Jule.

“The channel is rather narrow, but the water
is deep enough to take in a boat like the *Esmeralda*,”
was Rube’s reply.

“Still, I can’t see how that helps you out,”
continued Alex. “The island may be there, all right,
but the island can’t talk! It didn’t tell you that the
fellow had paid another visit to the *Rambler*, did
it? Who did tell you?”

“He told me himself!”

“But how did he tell you, and where?” demanded
Alex. “You are getting me all balled up!”

“Well,” replied Rube, with a grin, “we drew
aside in the channel I’ve been telling you about,
thinking to catch some fish for dinner. You see we
had the fish idea, too! The *Rambler* was ahead of
us at that time, but we knew of the island channel
and thought we could come out in the main channel
just a little ahead of her.”

“Which you did!” cut in Case.

“Exactly!” was the reply. “Just as the *Rambler*
passed the mouth of the channel, you boys were
launching the rowboat!”

“You fellows must have had a late dinner!”
commented Alex.

“Not so awfully late!” Rube replied. “You boys
took more time fishing than you realized. Well,
while we were hidden in the entrance to the
channel we saw a man leave the *Rambler* and strike
out for shore.

“We were lucky enough to intercept him when
he was nearly exhausted with his swimming, and
so we’ve got a surprise for you!”

In the meantime Clay had been helped over to
the deck of the *Esmeralda*, and was investigating
the cabin. He was still very lame from his
wound, his left arm being in a sling, but was on
the road to recovery.

Captain Joe, too, came on board, and was
promptly forgiven by Alex. He patted the dog’s
head and said to him:

“I know that you are an old sleepy-head, but
you’re a darling just the same!”

And Captain Joe nodded his head, just as if he
understood all the boy said.

At that moment Clay appeared in the doorway
of the cabin. He was greeted with looks of inquiry
by both Rube and Buck.

“Did you find him?” Buck asked.

“Find him?” repeated the boy. “Who is there
to find? I discovered only a badly mussed cabin.

What’s been going on in there? Looks like a
tornado had passed through it. You must have been
having quite a merry time on board.”

Both Rube and Buck sprang for the cabin.

“What’s doing?” asked the astonished Alex.
“Has everybody gone daffy, or have Rube and Buck
discovered an oil well in the bottom of the boat?”
The boys hastened to enter the cabin, where they
found Rube and Buck bending over a broken strap.

“Now, what do you know about that?” the
former was asking.

Buck shook his head, looking very much
disgruntled.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`RUBE TELLS A STORY`:

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   CHAPTER XIX

.. class:: center medium

   RUBE TELLS A STORY

.. vspace:: 2

For a moment Buck and Rube looked as if they
could not believe the evidence of their senses, then
both broke into a hearty laugh. Then they shook
hands and laughed again.

“Well,” said Clay, “I hope, when you fellows get
done with your monkey-work, that you’ll
condescend to tell us what you find so funny. It won’t
take long to give it a name.”

Buck and Rube rushed out of the little cabin
and gazed long and earnestly into the fast-gathering
night. They walked to the side of the boat
and looked over into the water. Then they roared
again, to the disgust of the boys.

Alex tapped the top of his head significantly.

“They’ve gone mad!” he said.

The boys had followed Rube and Buck out to
the deck, and now stood in a little circle about
them.

“I don’t see any evidences of insanity,” laughed
Thede, “but they will doubtless become raving mad
in a moment!”

“Too bad!” cried Jule.

In the meantime Rube and Buck had had their
laugh out and settled back on the seat which ran
along the inner side of the railing. The faces of
the two men were blank with amazement.

“Did you tie him tight?” asked Buck.

“You know it!” was the reply.

Again the men arose and walked into the cabin.

“He’s sure gone!” Rube said.

“He’s gone, all right!” answered Buck.

“When you have had your fun out, perhaps
you’ll tell us who it is that’s gone!” ventured Alex,
wrinkling his nose and attempting to speak very
sternly, and, of course, making a failure of it, “because,
you’ve had quite a time at this foolishness.”

“Well,” replied Rube, “we had a surprise for
you, but there don’t seem to be anything doing in
the astonishment line! We had little old ‘To the
Death’ nicely trussed up in the cabin, but it seems
that he got away!”

“Got away!” exclaimed Case and Jule in a breath.

“Yes, sir, got away!” replied the giant.

“Nice fellows you are!” exploded Case, sourly.
“Why didn’t you tie him up so he wouldn’t get
away?”

By this time Buck and Rube were almost as well
acquainted with Case’s temper as were the other
boys, so no attention was paid to this outburst of
grouch.

“Where do you think he went?” asked Thede.

“You know as much about it as I do,” answered
Rube. “Just take a look into the cabin.”

The cabin was a sight! Clothing was scattered
over the floor, the mirror which hung above the
sideboard was in tiny pieces, and the general
appearance of the place was “on the bum,” as Alex
expressed it. The boys gazed at the disorder for
a moment and then returned to the deck to think
it out.

By this time it was quite dark. A storm was
coming up, and the boys decided to tie up for the
night where they were.

There was plenty of provisions on the *Esmeralda*,
and the hungry boys made a hearty meal. Thede
and Clay shortly returned to the *Rambler* to
acquaint Paul with what was going on.

“It seems to me,” said Buck, straightening up the
disordered cabin, “that you boys have something
in your minds that we ought to know, being as we
are to sail together for a few days.”

“I don’t think we have anything on you, if we
have!” Alex replied. “What’s it about those
private interviews between Paul and yourselves?”

“You caught on, did you?” asked Rube, with a
laugh. “Well, it is about time for a show-down, I
reckon, don’t you think so, Buck?”

Buck nodded, and Rube continued.

“I don’t know whether I can tell this story
accordin’ to Hoyle, but I’ll try. Once upon a time,
as the story books say, there was an old miser who
wanted the earth and the fullness thereof. Is that
O. K., Buck? Does she start out right?”

Buck laughed good-naturedly, nodding his head
again, and Rube went on.

“This old gazabo was the uncle and administrator
of the estate of a minor heir. Don’t I get any
help in this narration?”

Rube waited a moment for a reply, but, none
coming, he went on again, stammering and making
a great mess of it. To tell the truth, Alex and
Jule were too much interested in the story which
was still coming to do anything to interrupt it.

“The old uncle was also guardeen of this minor
heir, and it is easy to guess what a life he led the
boy. By the way, it may be well to state right
here that this old man was next of kin, and would
inherit a fortune if the heir should die.”

Rube paused a moment to wipe his forehead, and
then went on, after casting an appealing glance in
Buck’s direction.

“This lad, who was only sixteen, thought the
guardeen’s plans all wrong, and, after thinking the
matter over a long time, decided to elope with
himself, which he did!”

“Why don’t you mention names?” demanded
Jule. “The boy’s name was Paul Stegman, wasn’t
it?”

“You just wait until the story is finished,”
answered Rube, with a broad grin. “Well, the old
geezer tried his level best to catch the boy and land
him in a home for imbeciles, or some such shop,
but the kid had disappeared.

“One day the old man thought of one kink that
hadn’t been worked, and that was the West. So
he entered into correspondence with three men—a
surgeon, and two officers of the law.”

“Now, you’re getting down to brass tacks!”
shouted Jule. “Did these men catch the kid?”

“Yes, they discovered his whereabouts, but they
hadn’t the heart to disturb him. You see, he had
fallen into good hands. After being robbed of his
boat and beaten almost to death, one of the
searchers found him, one wild night, lying on his back
in the rain.”

“Thought it was Paul,” Alex announced. “Why
didn’t these men take him back to his uncle?”

“Not so you could notice it!” was the reply.

Alex and Jule both arose and gravely shook the
hands of both men. Then they returned to their
seats.

“But I don’t yet understand how the surgeon
came to be standing on the river bank in the rain,”
Jule cut in.

“He had just been put off the *Rambler*, then in
possession of the pirates,” Alex added.

“Not so fast!” Rube continued. “He had been
put off the *Rambler* some time before, after setting
a broken leg for the boy. At that time the pirates
began to see that the boy was worth more to them
alive than dead. In other words, they decided to
hold him for ransom.”

“But where does the surgeon come in?” asked
Alex. “He says he was engaged in the practice of
medicine in a little town up the river—was he?”

“Yes, I think he told the truth about that,” was
the reply. “I reckon he wasn’t making any too
much money though, and was about ready to quit
when the miser offered his reward.”

“Offered a reward, did he?” said Jule. “This
will be news to Paul! How much is the reward?”

“Five thousand.”

“Gee!” shouted the boy. “I’d like to get my
hands on that sum myself.”

“I think I’ve got all the parties in this story
sized up now but I’d like to know if you ever had a
ranch?”

“Now look here, kid,” Rube answered, “don’t
get too personal in your remarks! Why, of course
I’ve got a ranch! The only lie I told you boys was
about that brindle steer! I’ve got a brindle steer,
but I didn’t lose him that rainy night.”

“You’re a fraud!” exclaimed Jule. “I infer,
then, that Buck and yourself are officers of the
law!”

Buck turned the lapel of his coat and showed
the badge of a United States marshal.

“There you are!” he said “If you want any
papers served, you have come to the right shop!”

“Now I see,” remarked Alex, “how the
*Esmeralda* came to be so handy! I never suspected it at the time.”

“You are a pair of frauds! Just as Jule said,”
ventured Alex, speaking after a pause. “How long
have you known each other?”

“A matter of ten years!” Rube answered, with a
chuckle. “I reckon it’s been about that time, eh,
Buck?” he added, with a grin that spread over his
face. “And we’ve been pretty good friends, at
that, never went back on each other, eh?”

“I guessed that you had something to do with
the law, yourself,” cried Jule, remembering a time
when Rube had hastily put a silver badge out of
sight. “Out with it!”

“Well, you see, the boys up in our neck of the
woods seemed to think I’d make a fair sheriff,
and so they elected me,” Rube stated, coloring as
he did so, for it had been no part of his program
that the boys should know him as the sheriff of his
county.

“Now, if you’ll tell how you came to know
Thede, we’ll call it square,” Alex suggested.

“Oh, he belongs up in my county, and of course
I know him,” was Rube’s reply. “But,” he added,
“I’m afraid we’ve got to lose him, for the
hard-luck story he told you boys was about right. He’s a
right pert boy, and we hate to lose him.”

By this time the wind was blowing a gale, and
Buck arose to make the *Rambler* and the *Esmeralda*
more secure. Vivid flashes of lightning lit the sky,
and presently the rain began to fall in torrents.

It was hot, too, and the boys were stripped to
their shirts, Alex, who was short and fat, was
fanning himself with a newspaper. He gave a little
start of surprise at something he saw in the sheet,
but said not a word.

Case and Thede called out that they were all
right, and that Clay was in the cabin, sitting by
Paul, who was sound asleep.

“We heard nearly everything Rube said,” laughed
Case, “and the parts he missed Thede told me!
And so, you see, you are discovered—taken with
the goods!”

“For the love of Mike!” shouted Alex. “Do you
suppose Paul heard, too?”

“He’s sound asleep,” was the reply.

“It makes no difference if he did,” suggested
Buck. “He has been wise to the game since the
first day.”

“Oh, all right, then,” was Alex’s answer. “What
does the kid think about your program? Is he
enjoying this trip on the Rio Grande? He’s in no
shape, with his broken leg, to take much comfort.”

“He thinks he’s lucky to be alive, after the
treatment given him up the river,” Buck said. “You
see, he got beaten up before they got the notion of
holding him for ransom.”

“I don’t understand,” interposed Jule. “If the
old miser wanted him murdered, he must have
gotten into communication with the robbers, and
offered them a large sum to do the job!”

“That’s just the point!” answered Buck. “That’s
what we want to find out! That’s just what we
are taking this trip for—to give the brutes a good
chance to show their hands. Ordinarily, it would
be enough to frustrate the old miser and the
robbers, but someone must be punished for this mix-up,
and we want to get the right ones.”

“And so the robbers are double-crossing the
miser?” asked Alex. “They are going to play the
blackmail game? Well, if he bargained with them
to do murder, they can get about all he has!”

Alex, cutting his talk short, and pointing to a
rim of trees standing not far away. Through the
slanting rain a low clicking sound, the clicking of
metal on metal.

“What’s doing over there?” the lad asked.
“Sounds like a machine shop.”

All listened intently for a time. The sound had
ceased now, and there was only the patter of the
falling rain.

Buck arose to his feet and stood just outside the
cabin, regardless of the fast-falling rain. He was
listening for the sound to be repeated. Presently
it came again.

“Counterfeiters!” exclaimed Rube.

The spot was a lonely one, one to fit well with
the making of illegal coin. A range of low hills
lay close to the river on the Mexican side, where
the two boats lay.

It was too dark to see them now, but Buck
explained that they were there, and that the spot was
one frequented by outlaws of every description.

“Suppose we land and make sure,” Alex
suggested.

“Yes,” said Jule, in a whisper, “I vote yes on
that proposition—it will be jolly to catch a gang
of counterfeiters. We have never had any such
luck!”

“You are likely to get a bullet through your
anatomy!” Buck answered. “Counterfeiters are
not river thieves.”

“We carry a surgeon to cut it out if we do!”
laughed Jule. “I’m going anyhow! The idea of
catching a live counterfeiter appeals to me. What
do you say, Alex?”

“I’m game!” was the reply.

Buck and Rube laughed softly.

They knew that the lads would go, rain or shine,
and were already making preparations to go with
them. Thede was called over to the *Esmeralda* and
given instructions, and the two men, accompanied
by the boys, started away through the storm, taking
the direction from which the sounds came.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`TAKEN AT LAST`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XX

.. class:: center medium

   TAKEN AT LAST

.. vspace:: 2

Paul awoke shortly after Thede’s departure for
the *Esmeralda*, and Clay, Case and himself spent
some moments wondering about the success of the
night expedition in the rain.

Case and Clay only laughed at the idea of the
counterfeiters being taken, declaring that the
clicking sounds which the men had heard probably came
from a long distance, and that, anyhow, there
wouldn’t be any counterfeiters present when they
came, after a long tramp in the rain, to the locality
where they had been.

“They are slippery people, these counterfeiters,”
Case argued, getting ready for supper, “and are not
to be caught napping. When you get where you
can put your finger on them, they are not there!”

“But suppose, for a minute, that they did catch
them,” urged Paul, “what are they going to do
with them? They might be kept on the *Esmeralda*.
She is not loaded down with people like the
*Rambler*.”

“Catch your men before you find places for
them!” Case laughed. “If the boys do catch them,
we’ll find a place to store them!”

“Say,” said Clay, sniffing at the rather meager
supper cooking on the electric stove, “is that the
best you can do in the way of supper? I could eat
all that myself, and then want more! Suppose we
go over to the *Esmeralda* for supper?”

“It is only a short time since you had your
supper,” Case laughed. “I was just preparing a little
snack because there was nothing else to do. If you
want a hearty meal, you sure will have to go to the
*Esmeralda* for it.”

“You know what Alex said about leaving the
fish by the roadside,” Clay laughed. “How would
you like some of those fish right now? They would
go pretty good, eh?”

“I wonder if I could find them?” Case said.

“In this storm? I should say not! Forget it!”

But Case seemed fascinated with the idea of
getting those fish, and referred to the fact that they
were lying there in the rain, doing no one any
good, several times during the next few minutes.
At last Clay said with a laugh:

“Oh, go on and get the fish, if you are so stuck
on doing it! There won’t be any peace on the boat
until you have tried! I haven’t any idea that you
will succeed, but you can try!”

Case arose from the locker, where he had been
sitting, and, going to the window, looked out on
the driving rain. The night was sultry, and the
rain splashing on the deck of the motor boat
seemed rather attractive.

The boy threw off the light coat he had worn
and stood in undershirt and light trousers. After
looking critically at his feet for a second, he
proceeded to put on a pair of coarse shoes, well
calculated for walking in rocky places.

“So you are going, after all!” Clay laughed.
“Well, good luck go with you! If a crazy notion
ever got into a boy’s head, one has entered yours
now! The idea of going out in this storm! Why,
it is raining some, I tell you!”

“Who cares for the rain?” was the reply. “I
shall enjoy the trip immensely! If we had Alex or
Jule here to explain their line of march, we’d have
fish to eat!”

“But they are not here,” commented Clay, “and
one might as well look for a needle in a load of hay
as to try to follow their footsteps. Better give the
thing up!”

“No,” was the reply, “I’ll get a good bath,
anyhow, and I may find the fish, though it’s dollars to
apples that I don’t!”

The boy took up his searchlight and crossed over
to the *Esmeralda*, which lay between the *Rambler*
and the Mexican shore. Thede had a hearty laugh
at the idea of the lad venturing out in the rain.

“You’ve got the fish notion as badly as Rube and
Buck have the counterfeiters’ hunch,” he said.
“When they get where they are, they won’t be
there.”

“All right!” was the reply. “If I can’t get the
fish, I’ll get a good bath! Say, Clay is over there
on the *Rambler*, starving to death! Can’t you get
him over here and fill him up?”

“Sure!” was the ready response. “I can stuff
him like we do raccoons!”

“I guess that will hold him for a while!” laughed
Case.

With that he left the boat, and the last seen of
him was the round hole made in the night by his
searchlight.

Clay and Paul were left alone on the *Rambler*.
Clay told Paul what he had heard of the plans of
the four adventurers, closing with the statement
that they would succeed only in getting soaked to
the skin.

They had a frisky time with Captain Joe, the
cub, and the parrot, putting the latter through all
his tricks, and the cub also coming in for a share
of the frolic. The dog soon grew weary of the
game, and took refuge out in the rain.

“What’s the matter with Captain Joe?” asked
Paul. “He doesn’t appear to be in his usual spirits!
Perhaps he’s sulking because he was not invited to
the counterfeiter hunt!”

The parrot was in a talkative mood, and reeled
off such sayings as he had heard the boys repeat by
the yard. At last he cocked his head on one side
and shouted:

“Come out of that! Come out of that! What
are you hiding for? What are you hiding for?”

“That’s odd!” Clay exclaimed, looking about the
cabin of the *Rambler* curiously. “I never knew the
bird to act in that way before. He usually
contents himself with shorter questions.”

“I believe there’s something going on,” Paul
declared, almost in a whisper. “Listen!”

Both boys listened for a moment, and then Clay
stepped to the door, or window, leading to the aft
deck and threw it open, remarking, as he did so,
that it was a wonder it had not been open all the
evening.

Then came the surprise of his life.

As Clay threw the window open a grinning face
confronted him—a low, mean face, with small,
black eyes, a bulldog chin, and a forehead which
seemed like that of a snake, it sloped so, and was
so narrow. The fellow, who was slender of form,
extended a threatening revolver in his right hand
and climbed through the window.

Clay was not armed, and he knew that Paul was
in the same fix. Weapons lay all about him in the
cabin, but none was within reach.

“What do you want?” demanded the lad,
watching for an opportunity to get out of range of the
weapon.

“You!” was the laconic answer.

“But,” Clay began, but the leveled revolver
stopped him, for he saw murder in the little eyes.

The first work of the intruder was to collect all
the weapons in sight and put them out of reach of
the boy, who stood in the meantime with his hands
raised above his head.

Then Paul received his attention. The fellow
made a critical examination of the broken leg,
smiling as he did so.

“You have taken excellent care of him,” was his
only comment.

“What is it that you want?” Clay asked again,
still watching for his chance.

“Your boat,” answered the fellow.

He paused a moment, as if considering, and then
nodded his head in the direction of the place where
Paul was lying, with his hands also well up in the
air.

“And the kid,” he added.

“If it is money you want, name the sum,” Clay
said. “He has been hurt, and can’t be moved.”

The fellow chuckled and made no reply. He took
some strong cord from a pocket and proceeded to
tie Clay. Was there no chance of escape? If Case
would only return!

The tying went on, and Clay was obliged to
endure it. If some of the boys would come!

Where was Captain Joe? Somehow, that dog
never was where he was wanted! If he would only
come now!

Perhaps he had been silenced by a blow on the
head. But no; the dog was out on the front deck,
and the intruder had entered the cabin from the
rear.

The man who seemed to have taken undisputed
possession of the *Rambler*, first taking care to place
the weapons beyond the reach of Paul, proceeded
then to put the motors in motion. Clay watched
him as he did so with anxious eyes, hoping to see
him push the wrong lever, but the fellow did
nothing of the kind.

All this time rain had been falling in great
sheets, but now there came a lull in the storm.

The cords hurt Clay’s wounded arm, and he
uttered an involuntary groan of pain. As if
attracted by the cry, Captain Joe appeared in the
cabin doorway!

The dog was quick to take in the situation, and,
before he could make a move to defend himself, had
the fellow by the throat. He had not counted on
Captain Joe!

The fellow gasped as the teeth of the dog tore
at his throat, and he tried to cry out, but was unable
to do so. Together they rolled here and there on
the cabin floor.

The noise of the struggle attracted the attention
of Thede, who lost no time in getting on board
the boat. At a word from Clay the dog released
his hold, and the man fell back in a faint.

“I wonder if he’s dead?” Thede said, as he bent
over the unconscious man. “It surely isn’t the fault
of the dog if he still has life in his body!”

Then he paused a moment and looked about. He
saw the plight Clay was in and hastened to release
him.

“It seems to me that you kept this little
performance rather private!” he said as he cut the
cords. “How did he get into the cabin?”

“Came in by the window, from the after deck,”
was the reply. “Strange you didn’t see or hear him
when he crossed from the *Esmeralda*!”

“The rain probably prevented the noise he made,
if he made any at all, being heard, and the chances
are that he didn’t make any! The people who go
forth on the mission he seems to have been on
usually make as little stir as possible.”

The surgeon now gave his attention to the man,
who had been severely injured by the dog, who
now stood close by to see that he did not escape.
He was covered with blood, his throat being badly
tom.

“It seems to me that I’m having a right smart
practice on this boat!” he said, with a smile. “I’ll
have to go to the other boat for my instruments.
That is a ragged wound!”

“Don’t you recognize the fellow?” asked Clay.
“Don’t think I ever saw him before.”

“You saw his back, and that was under water,”
Clay urged. “Now do you know what I mean?”

“Not little ‘To the Death’? I never guessed
that!”

“That’s who it is.”

Thede now left for the *Esmeralda*, and Clay
busied himself stanching the blood, which was
flowing from the wound in the man’s neck in a
steady stream.

Presently he heard voices and listened to catch
the words. It was Alex and Jule, talking excitedly,
and evidently making good use of their legs.

“I’m going to get the *Rambler* and run down,”
Alex’s voice said. “If Buck and Rube get the
others, there’ll sure be a load!”

The rain had ceased, and the stars were shining,
lighting the rocks with a silvery radiance. There
would be a moon later on.

“Now, what does the kid mean by that?” mused
Clay, forgetting for the moment to care for the
injured man.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`A NIGHT OF WATCHING`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XXI

.. class:: center medium

   A NIGHT OF WATCHING

.. vspace:: 2

Rube and Buck, accompanied by Alex and Jule,
passed through the rain with no thought but that
of capturing the counterfeiters in their minds. The
rain fell steadily, making a great patter on the
leaves of the forest trees, so conversation was
difficult.

“They have chosen a fine locality for the job,”
suggested Buck, pausing to wipe the sweat from
his face. “This certainly is a section of country
where they are not likely to receive many visitors.”

“That’s right,” Jule agreed. “This spot makes
one think of graveyards and ghosts!”

The steady click of metal now came more
distinctly, and presently a light was discernible
through the trees. Then the party halted for
consultation, standing close together to avoid being
overheard. There was no knowing how many trees
sheltered listeners.

It was finally decided that Rube and Alex should
proceed to the right, while Buck and Jule took the
opposite direction.

“We sure can surround ’em, anyway, and we may
be able to capture a few of ’em!” Rube suggested.
“Mighty slippery people, these gentlemen who make
bogus coin!” he added, snapping off his
searchlight.

The snapping off of the light made the forest as
dark as a pocket, but this condition existed for only
a few minutes, for the light of a great fire in a
cave of large size shone out upon the stealthily
advancing men.

“It strikes me,” commented Alex, “that they’ve
got a heap of nerve to build a fire like that. How
do they know who’ll be passing along here?”

Rube chuckled softly.

“You are in Mexico now, son, where the people
wink at all the crimes in the book of laws. Besides,
these people are about as likely to have callers as
pigs are to fly!”

“Well, we’ve got to the nest, now how are we to
get inside?” asked Alex, wrinkling his nose in
perplexity. “We might rush in on ’em, quick, and
catch ’em with the goods!”

“Watch, and wait for Buck and Jule to come
up,” was the slow reply. “They may be able to
suggest some plan. Whatever you do, be careful.
These people shoot quick and straight. The first
thing you know, you won’t know anything!”

They waited a long time for Buck and Jule, but
at last they came, having taken a route which led
to the other side of the rocky elevation which
formed the base of the cave. It was only by the
quick display of a searchlight that Rube and Alex
located their chums.

Then a long conference was held, Jule and Alex
being in favor of rushing the place and taking it
by storm, while Buck and Rube were more
conservative.

“Don’t you boys get us into any place we can’t
get out of,” said Rube, with a little laugh. “If
we go into that cave we are likely to do just that
very thing!”

“All right,” replied Alex, “if you want to sneak
in just go on and we’ll follow!”

There were four men in the cave, all so busy
over their work that they did not have time to
grab a single weapon for their own defense, so the
fight which followed was very short.

Rube felled one of the four with a blow of his
fist, and the others yielded to the persuasions of the
automatics. When all were tied up, and after the
boys had searched the cavern for more, another
consultation was held.

“I wonder if they are all here?” Alex said,
regarding the captured prisoners with a smile. “Call
the roll, someone who knows all the names! I pass
on these Mexican names!”

The boy’s question called forth only sullen looks
and scowls. It was easy to see what would have
been the fate of the boys had the conditions been
reversed.

Both Buck and Rube understood a few words of
Spanish, and tried their best to enter into
conversation with their prisoners, but all their questions
were answered by scowling looks.

A search of the cave revealed a complete
counterfeiter’s assortment of tools and dies used in the
work, together with considerable silver. The dies
were destroyed, and as much of the silver as could
be carried without inconvenience appropriated.

“What are you going to do with the silver?”
asked Alex.

“Oh, it will come in handy, all right!” answered
Buck. “Mexican law provides for turning it over
to the government, but as there is no government
to speak of, we’ll just geezle it! If we turn it over
to the people who have charge of the government,
there is no knowing whether it will ever get into
circulation.”

Once more they tried to talk with the prisoners,
but received only scowls in reply. So they gave up
the attempt and began the return trip.

“This capture has been an easy one,” was Jule’s
comment, as the boys walked along in the rear of
the two men who were taking good care that the
captured men did not escape. “A little bit too
easy!”

“Why too easy?”

“Oh, we may have trouble yet,” was Jule’s
reply.

It did look that way to the boys. The prisoners
kept an eye out for a chance to make a run for it.

Now and then one of them halted for an instant
to listen, but, hearing nothing, walked on again.

“That fellow is expecting someone to rescue
him,” Alex said, after some distance had been
passed. “Anyhow, we are too near the boats now
for any attempt at rescue to prove successful.”

“How do you know that?” demanded Jule. “The
boats are no protection. If we find them as we
usually have, they’ll need help from us. What’s
that?”

The prisoners had made a break for liberty, and,
taking advantage of a rocky spot where walking
was very difficult, had darted off, bound as they
were. Buck and Rube fired several shots, but the
men ran all the faster.

At last two of the men were found, lying hidden
under a bush, but the others could not be
discovered, though the lads searched all around.

“We’re lucky to have these two left!” Alex said
with a grin. “If the others don’t attack us before
we get to the boats, we’ll be lucky. Our
searchlights make a good mark!”

“And they can hear the noise we make going
through the bushes a mile off!” added Jule.

“Suppose we go on ahead and search the river?”
proposed Alex. “We can run up and down the
stream, anyway. The stars are shining, and the
light is fine. Then we can take the *Rambler* and
run her up and down stream. I’ve got a hunch that
they will make for the river and try to cross to the
American side.”

“I don’t see why they should do that,” was the
reply. “There are plenty of mountains, or high
ground at least, for them to hide in. But you may
be right. We’ll try the river first.”

After searching the bank of the river, the boys
made for the *Rambler*, crossed the *Esmeralda*, and
went on board. There they found the surgeon
bending over the injured man and everything in
confusion.

“What’s doing here?” asked Jule.

Then Clay told the story of the attack on the
boat and how Captain Joe came to the rescue.

“Good dog!” cried Alex, stroking the dog’s head.
“Don’t you, none of you, ever call him a no-account
cur again! This makes two men he has pulled down
lately. That is a fair record for a cur dog, don’t
you think?”

“Captain Joe is a peach of a dog!” cut in Jule.
“I shall never forget how he jumped that river
pirate who was lighting the match to bum my
feet!”

“Do you know who this man is?” asked Clay,
after a short pause, during which the dog was
petted and caressed to his heart’s content. “Give a
guess.”

The boys made a close examination of the man’s
features, but they were so bloody that identification
was difficult, if not impossible.

“I give it up!” said Alex.

“So do I!” chorused Jule.

Then the surgeon told who the injured man was,
and the boys expressed great satisfaction.

“We’ll see that he don’t get away a second time,”
Clay declared. “He’s a tricky chap, but he will stay
put now. By the way, where’s Case—on the
*Esmeralda*, I take it.”

Clay and Paul looked at each other with sober
eyes.

“Case left the boat two hours ago,” answered
Clay. “He said he was going to look for the fish
you boys left, and should have been back within
half an hour.”

“He seems to be setting up a rivalry to Alex,”
laughed Paul. “That boy certainly can have more
adventures in less time than any boy in the wide
world!”

“Oh, Clay can go some in that line!” laughed
Alex, “but where do you think the boy is?”

“Why didn’t Captain Joe go with him?” asked
Jule.

“Because the dog needs rest,” replied Clay. “He
has had a hard time of it, haven’t you, Joe?”
caressing the dog as he spoke. “And your wound hasn’t
healed yet, and you ought to be in the hospital!
Tell him that you are in no shape to go chasing
over the country looking for lost fish!”

The dog made the explanation as plainly as it
could be made by one not having the gift of speech,
and the boys all laughed and looked pleased.

“You are worth a dozen dead dogs yet!” declared
Alex.

“I’d like to know which way Case went,”
wondered Jule. “We saw nothing of him.”

“Perhaps Rube and Buck will bring him with
them,” Clay said hopefully.

“Doesn’t it take a long time to bring those two
captives in?” asked Thede, still busy over the
injured man, who was now beginning to show signs
of returning consciousness.

“That’s just what I was thinking,” Alex
exclaimed.

The boys looked in every direction except at
each other. There was in the eyes of every one of
them a premonition of evil which he did not want
the others to see!

“The moon is coming up now, let’s go and look
for them!” suggested Jule. “I want to put on a dry
suit, then I’ll be ready.”

“It strikes me that we have no time to waste, if
we want to overhaul the United States Marshal and
the Sheriff,” Alex declared. “And we might give a
thought to Case while we are out looking the others
up. Beats the dickens how we do get scattered!”

“All right,” agreed Jule, “if you want to start
right now. I’m ready, only it won’t do you any
good to tell how hungry you are before you’ve gone
a mile. If you drag me off without a chance to
change my clothes, I’ll see that you don’t get
anything to eat until we get back!”

“But suppose I should find the fish, what about
that?” Alex replied, starting away.

The moon was up above the tops of the trees
now, and was at the full. It was a splendid night,
and the boys enjoyed it greatly as they hastened
along.

“Which way?” asked Jule.

“I don’t know,” replied Alex. “The
counterfeiters’ cave is downstream, but the two men who
were found in hiding under a bush gave them a
run before they were caught, and I’m all at sea.”

“Which way did Case go?”

“Again I don’t know.”

“Well, we must decide on something pretty soon
or it will be morning before we reach a
conclusion,” Jule suggested.

That was a long night for those who remained
on the *Rambler*. The hours dragged slowly, with
no word from the boys.

Thede dressed the wounded man’s throat and got
him into an improvised bed. Then he sat down to
await news from the boys. The night passed and
the sun rose in a cloudless sky.

“I feel like taking up the search myself,” Clay
exclaimed. “The boys are probably doing all that
anyone could do, yet I think I could do better. I’ve
a good notion to see what I could do!”

“And leave us alone? I guess not!”

It was Paul who spoke, but the very next moment
something occurred which gave a new light to the
situation.

Rube came back, weary and worn, but he came
alone!

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`A SURPRISE FOR CLAY`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XXII

.. class:: center medium

   A SURPRISE FOR CLAY

.. vspace:: 2

Clay and Thede met the bedraggled man at the
rail. There were questions in their eyes which
they dreaded to put into words.

“Mornin’,” came the cheerful greeting.

Clay looked him over critically.

“You’re a sight!” he said.

Rube looked down at his torn clothes, at his
sodden boots, and smiled.

“They don’t look very spick an’ span, do they?”
he asked. “But you ought to see the other boys!”

“Where’s Case?” asked Paul. “He went out to
catch fish off dry land, and we haven’t seen him
since.”

In answer to Rube’s wondering look, Clay
explained that Case had gone in the hope of finding
the string of fish dropped by Jule and Alex. Rube’s
only reply was a grin.

“Where are the others?” asked Paul, as Rube
climbed wearily aboard the *Rambler*. “Is Case
with them?” he added.

Before making any reply Rube threw himself
down with a sigh of relief and drew off his boots,
sodden with water from the underbrush.

“Yes, Case is with the others,” he replied, then,
“and the gang will be here in something like half
an hour. Got any notion where we’ve been?” he
added with a most exasperating grin.

“That’s just what we’re anxious to hear,” replied
Clay.

“Well,” replied Rube, “we’ve been over to the
United States—yes, sir, over to the good old United
States!”

The boys gave the man an incredulous look, as if
doubting his word. Perhaps he just thought he
had been over there!

“Where did you get a boat?” asked Thede, after
a long silence.

“The counterfeiters had one,” was the laconic
reply, “and we geezled it. We had a fine time over
there—not!”

“Well, why don’t you open up and tell us about
it?” Clay said, irritated at the provoking
deliberation of the man.

Rube looked hopelessly about, as if expecting aid
from some unknown source, and was about to begin
when there came a shout from the bank and Buck,
Case, Alex, and Jule made their appearance. Rube
looked very much relieved, and Clay stepped
forward to meet the approaching men, his face
wreathed in smiles.

“You’re a nice boy to go after fish!” he said,
giving the lad a friendly poke. “The next time we
send you out, we’ll keep you at home where we
can watch you!”

Alex displayed a string of fish!

“Here’s your old fish!” he said, with pardonable
pride. “Now we’ll have something to eat!”

“Are those the same fish?” Clay demanded.

“The same—the very same!” Case answered.
“Say, but I could eat one, scales and all.”

While the fish were cooking, and while Alex was
bringing everything in the eatable line over from the
*Esmeralda*, Case and Jule told of the
adventures of the night.

“You see, it’s just like this,” he began, but Jule
stopped him with a laughing remark.

“Tell about your adventures first,” he said.

Captain Joe, who had been trying all this time
to attract attention to himself, now sprang upon
Alex and began licking his face. The boy stroked
the dog’s head affectionately. His side was still
sore where the outlaw’s bullet had cut its way
through the flesh.

Case replied with a laugh, and went on with his
story.

Alex and Jule had come across Case, it seemed,
when he had given up all hope of finding the fish
and was on his way back to the *Rambler*. The
three had searched a long time for Buck and Rube,
but had found them at last.

They had taken what they had believed to be a
shorter way to the boat and had lost their way,
being at the time of meeting Alex and Jule,
traveling in the right direction.

“Why don’t you get us over to God’s country?”
demanded Jule.

“All right!” was Case’s answer. “The
counterfeiters had evidently crossed over from the
American side of the Rio Grande in a rowboat, for one
was found in a little bayou near the point of
meeting. This gave Rube an idea.

“‘Why not take the prisoners across the river
without going to the *Rambler*?’ he asked. ‘If we
lock ’em up in a Mexican jail, the chances are that
they will be out before our backs are turned. The
people over here have little respect for the law.’

“This was finally agreed to, and we bundled the
prisoners into the boat. It was a tight squeeze,
getting us all in, but the feat was accomplished at
last and we were across the river in a jiffy.

“We landed at a small village—a typical border
town, with plenty of Mexicans in evidence. The
streets ought to have been pretty quiet at that time
of night, but they were anything but that.

“A company of United States soldiers—the same
we had given a banquet to up the river—had
possession of the town, and were making a search for
the four counterfeiters! Of course we gave up the
two we held, and were warmly thanked by the
lieutenant in charge, who had not forgotten us by any
manner of means.

“We had a midnight supper with the soldiers—a
supper which took us far into the night. Then,
after making a date with the lieutenant at the
mouth of the Pecos river, we returned to the
*Rambler*. Not much of a story, after all!”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of time to make the
Pecos river, as the men will have a long walk, so
I propose getting forty winks!” said Clay. “I
didn’t get enough sleep last night to put in tea!
Who’s for the feathers?”

“I’m afraid we can’t meet you boys and the
lieutenant at the mouth of the Pecos river,” said Buck,
after a short consultation with Rube. “You see,
it’s like this,” he continued, “unless you boys want
to stick around and watch us work, we’ll have to
be on our way. It’s back up the river for us, but
we may be at the mouth of the Pecos in time to
greet you boys and the soldiers, though it’s rather
doubtful.”

“Suppose we caucus on the proposition,”
suggested Alex. “For one, I’m willing to remain with
Buck and Rube.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to go to the mouth of
the Pecos, and wait for them there?” Clay cut in.
“I understand that the Pecos is a peach of a stream
when it comes to crooks and turns, and I’d like to
see it. If it is a sure thing that you will be there
within a few days, we might go on and wait for
you there.”

“Oh, we’ve got to be there, all right!” Rube
declared.

“Then we’re all right,” cried Alex. “We’ll just
drop down and wait for you there. Now, what
will you have to eat?”

“Why, we have just had a whale of a meal,”
Thede said. “Do you want to stuff us like they
do hens for market?”

“That was just a lunch,” laughed the boy. “A
little fish breakfast! Before the trip ends, I want a
chance to show what I can do in the cooking line.”

So Rube and Buck went back up the river, while
the *Rambler* turned her prow to the east. Of
course Alex and Jule had to have another meal.

“Do you think,” smiled Jule, “that we came on
this excursion to go hungry? Not much! When
we get farther downstream, where we can get
’coons that are good and fat. I’ll show the gang
how to cook one. My mouth waters at the
thought!”

As the *Rambler* proceeded on her way, it was
plain to be seen that Alex had something on his
mind. He kept more than usually still, and the
frown between his eyes grew more marked.

Clay noticed the change in the boy and waited
for him to give the reason for it. He knew that in
time the answer would come.

It came one night when Alex was on watch. It
was a brilliant night in June, and the boy had been
unusually thoughtful that day.

“Suppose,” Alex began, “that a man died and
left a big fortune—not a few thousands, but
millions—and he had only one heir.”

Clay knew that the thing which had been
bothering Alex was on the way to the surface, and
waited for him to go on.

“And suppose this man had a brother who was
greedy for the big fortune, and suppose the brother
also died, where would the fortune go until the
heir became of age?”

“To whoever the court appointed guardian,” was
the reply. “Is there such a case?”

“Would the heir have any say about the
appointment of the guardian?” continued the lad.

“I think he ought to,” was the answer.

Alex was thoughtful for a short time and then
drew from an inside pocket a folded newspaper,
which he passed over to Clay.

“Perhaps you would better read the story for
yourself,” he said, “then you’ll know all about it.”

The newspaper contained a long account of the
death by drowning of one Orlando Stegman.

“Where did you get this?” asked Clay, after
running hastily through the article. “Is the
Orlando Stegman, the person named here, the uncle
of Paul?”

“Yes,” was the answer. “Another part of the
same newspaper contains an advertisement offering
a reward for the discovery of the heir. Paul won’t
have to dodge about the country any more.”

“Did you show him this article?” asked Clay,
rising to his feet. “Tell me where you got it.”

“It just appeared,” was the reply. “I have no
idea where it came from. It is a Chicago paper,
and how a Chicago newspaper got down here is
more than I can guess.”

Clay turned the paper and read the date line.

“Why,” he said in amazement, “the paper is over
two weeks old. Well, it doesn’t matter how it got
here, it is here, and makes a millionaire of the boy
we—or Captain Joe, rather—fished out of the Rio
Grande! And a pretty good job he did, too!”

“I didn’t tell Paul of the discovery,” Alex said,
after a pause, during which he blocked the door
to the cabin, “because I didn’t want to lose him.
Just the minute he gets hold of that paper he’ll
want to be off, and I want Rube or Buck, or both,
to get well acquainted with him so as to be
appointed guardian. How does that strike you?”

“Fine!” exclaimed Clay.

“We might have guardians in duplicate!” Alex
laughed. “Do they ever have guardians in
duplicate?”

“Sometimes they have three,” was the reply.
“But why did you keep so sly about it? You might
have told me!”

“Well,” was the answer, “I was in doubt what
to do about it. You see, I didn’t want you to
know about it until I had it all thought out. You
would be apt to tell the other boys, and I didn’t
want to be bothered.”

“What are you going to do now? It is still up
to you to decide, you know.”

Clay, having given up all idea of notifying the
boy of his accession to great wealth, dropped down
on the railing of the *Rambler* and looked at Alex
with eager eyes. “Will you tell Paul?”

“No, I think not,” replied Alex. “You see, I
want to wait until Rube and Buck get here. They
may not want to accept the trust.”

“I haven’t the least idea that they will; they are
modest men, doubting their own ability. You will
have to argue pretty hard to talk them into taking
the responsibility.”

“We’ll find a way!” Alex insisted.

This was the third night of the trip to the mouth
of the Pecos, the *Rambler* having been tied up the
two previous nights because the gasoline tank had
sprung a leak and there were no filling stations
within reach.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`WHAT CAME OF A RAMBLE ON SHORE`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XXIII

.. class:: center medium

   WHAT CAME OF A RAMBLE ON SHORE

.. vspace:: 2

The boat was only a short distance from the
mouth of the Pecos when the discovery was made
that the propeller had ceased to operate. The boat
was drifting in the rather swift current.

Clay threw out the anchor and turned to Alex
with a look of inquiry on his face.

“Shall we let her drift?” he asked. “It’s not
far to the town of Viaduct, which is at the mouth
of the Pecos. It is likely that we can get a supply
of gasoline there.”

“Perhaps we had better wait until daylight,”
argued Alex. “We can then get a good night’s
sleep.”

“Not much!” Clay returned. “I don’t know how
much sleep you want, but it appears to me that two
nights ought to be enough!”

“Then let’s get in the rowboat and go on shore!”
Alex said, wrinkling his nose. “It seems a pity to
lose this fine night. We can give Captain Joe a
run on the bank and return before any of the boys
wake up. The dog will enjoy the outing.

“The boat will watch itself. We won’t go far,
and we won’t be gone long. Come on!”

Clay very reluctantly consented, and Captain Joe
was brought from the cabin, much to his delight,
and made a member of the party. The instant his
feet touched the shore, however, he was off, taking
a wide circle. Clay looked at Alex in
consternation.

“How’ll we ever get him back?” he asked,
ruefully. “He will stay half the night. And we ought
to be back on the boat. I’m sorry we ever left it!”

“Is that the *Esmeralda*?” asked Alex, pointing
out into the river, where the lights of a motor boat
showed. “It looks like it, and yet it doesn’t. She
seems narrower, and sits lower in the water.”

“*Esmeralda*? Nothing! We’d better be making
tracks for the *Rambler*! I don’t like the looks of
this!”

Clay’s wounded arm prevented his taking an oar,
but he could assist Alex immensely by sculling, and
this he did. Captain Joe was left on shore until
such time as would suit the convenience of his
dogship to return, and the lads started for the
*Rambler* at top speed.

But, fast as they speeded over the water, the
strange boat traveled faster, and reached the
*Rambler* first. Then the boys stopped rowing and
watched the performance on their motor boat.

In a minute’s time six husky men were
transferred to the deck of the *Rambler*, and
the boys could see that they were not at all welcome.
They saw Thede bound and laid aside, then Case and Jule
shared the same fate. The boys were helpless, as,
by a strange circumstance, their automatics had
been left behind.

They had intended bringing them, but they now
lay on the prow of the boat, where they had been
placed by Clay.

In a moment the men on board the *Rambler*
caught sight of the rowboat and invited the boys
to come on board. The invitation was declined,
and the outlaws opened fire.

The boys dropped into the bottom of the boat
and lay still until the men exhausted their charges,
and then rowed with all speed for the shore, where
they took shelter behind a slight elevation.

“We’ve gone and done it now, after all we’ve
been through!” exclaimed Clay, grinding his teeth
at the thought of what might be going on on board
the motor boat. “We’ve been captured a dozen
times, but never like this! What shall we do
now?”

“Give the thing up!” was Alex’s answer. “It’s
all my fault. I dragged you ashore against your
will, and against your better judgment Yes, I did,
and you know it.”

“You are mistaken, for I was just aching to
come!” answered Clay. “Try to think clearly for
only a second. I think my reasoning powers are
wool-gathering.”

“I think mine are in the same boat,” Alex
answered. “But look there! What’s coming off
now?”

The boys saw, in the clear moonlight, Case and
Jule led to the railing of the *Rambler* and released
from the ropes which held them. Then they were
unceremoniously kicked into the river!

Case at once started to swim for the shore, but
Jule was not seen again. The boys looked long
and anxiously, but he was nowhere to be seen.
They looked into each other’s faces with eyes
which held a suspicious moisture.

“Jule’s drowned!” Alex moaned, starting
forward. “I hope I can get to the place where he
went down in time to save him!”

“You will only throw your life away if you go
out there now. The outlaws are looking for you
to do something like that. Let’s wait for Case
to swim in.”

“But we might be able to save his life if we went
out with the boat,” urged Alex.

“Wait for Case,” was all Clay would say.

The outlaws, who had reloaded their weapons,
fired volley after volley at the lad who was
swimming, but their bullets all went wide of the mark,
and Case was soon on shore, looking about for Clay
and Alex. He saw them when they arose in the
rowboat and came running to meet them.

“Where’s Jule?” asked Alex.

“I’m afraid he’s drowned,” was the sober reply.

“When did you see him last?” asked Clay.

“I never saw him after he went down. He just
dropped to the bottom like a piece of lead,” said
Case. “I guess the *Rambler*’s gone this time!” he
added.

“If we only had Jule back it could go to the
bottom, for all we’d care!” exclaimed Clay.

There were strange doings on board the *Rambler*.
The parrot was calling shrilly for the outlaws to
“Come off the perch,” and the baby bear was
clawing an outlaw with all his strength, which, after
all, was not great.

An outlaw seized the parrot and started for the
side of the boat with him, intending to pitch him to
the stream below, but the fellow who seemed to be
the leader of the gang stopped him.

The *Rambler* was near the shore, and every word
spoken was distinctly heard.

“Cut that!” said the harsh voice of the outlaw.
“Well keep him for a pet!”

“Nice pet!” snarled the pirate. “If I had my
way, the doctor would go overboard, too.”

“The surgeon will be needed to care for the
boy,” was the reply. “He can be attended later
on.”

The man dropped Tommy to the deck with an
oath on his lips, and stood watching him with
malice in his glance. Paul and the surgeon were
huddled close together in the cabin, not knowing
when their own time would come.

The outlaws all seemed to speak good English,
and the boys listened to their talk for several minutes
without learning anything of their plans. Then
the leader proposed going to the shore in quest of
the boys, who were sure to hang around until the
departure of the boat.

“We made a mistake in letting the two we had
get to the shore,” he said. “We should have tied
them up and then decided what to do with them.
We can at least get the rowboat if they are not
to be found.”

“Yes,” said another, “we don’t want the kids
about, for they will put the officers on our track,
and the officers will do a lot of hunting for that
millionaire boy we have.”

“I’m thinking whether the old man will give
down enough to pay for all this trouble,” said
another. “Why not collect the reward and let it go
at that?”

“It strikes me that is the better way,” declared
another. “The fellow who didn’t know that the
kid was good and dead, at the point up the river,
made a mistake.”

“Well, who’s going to the shore?” asked the
leader, giving an order for the rowboat to be
brought from the other motor boat.

The boys did not hear the reply, for at that
minute there came the sound of footsteps on the
country road. In another second the lieutenant
made his appearance, closely followed by a dozen
men.

The lieutenant spoke softly from the heavy shade
of the trees which crowded hard upon the highway
at that point.

“Stay where you are,” he said. “I have plenty
of men, and will capture the whole kaboodle. We
have been watching you for a long time. Are
you all right?”

“All except Jule,” was the grave reply. “The
outlaws threw him out of the boat, and he’s
drowned!”

“Keep still, now, here they come!”

There were four men in the rowboat, and they
came on at good speed, the leader standing up in
the boat in order to get a better view. He stepped
to the shore and stood talking with his men a
moment.

“How do I know the boys are unarmed?” he said,
evidently in reply to a question. “Why, I saw two
automatics lying on the prow of the *Rambler*!
Just as if the kids had intended taking them with
them, and then forgotten them!”

Then his eye caught a movement in the shadow,
and the next moment he was looking down the
barrel of a loaded musket.

“Keep still!” a voice said. “Lay your weapons
on the ground. Not there. Here!”

The men were tied almost before they knew what
had happened, and the three boys, sitting in the
boat behind the little elevation, were instantly on
their feet.

After thanking the lieutenant over and over
again, they turned their thoughts to the missing
Jule.

“We’ve just got to find him!” Clay cried. “We
have been chums too long to be parted so!”

Before anyone could make a suitable reply the
*Rambler* again became the center of the scene. The
lads could scarcely believe their senses. The
outlaws were deserting the *Rambler*!

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`AND THE LAST`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XXIV

.. class:: center medium

   AND THE LAST

.. vspace:: 2

There followed a moment’s silence, and then,
rising clear and high, came the voice of the parrot.

“A dead man’s chest! A dead man’s chest! Yo,
ho, and a bottle of rum! And a bottle of rum!”

“The men who are deserting the *Rambler*
certainly have heard the parrot before!” whispered
Case. “What does it mean?”

While the boys and the soldiers wondered over
the strange happening, another voice came from
the *Rambler*.

“Up, boys, and at them! Drive ’em into the
river!”

“Peter Pratt!” shouted Alex, dancing up and
down in the excitement of the moment.

“Good old Jule! I knew they couldn’t kill him!”
exclaimed Clay, leaping out of the boat.

It was plain to be seen that the outlaws were
returning to the boat which lay within reach, and
in another moment would be off down the river.
There were three of them now, the man who had
been tied up in the cabin being the third.

“Now, what’s the matter with them?” asked the
lieutenant, with a look of wonder in his eyes.
“They surely are not running away from one man!
Ah, I see now!”

What he saw was the *Esmeralda*, making record
time.

“That boat stands about as much show of
running away from the *Esmeralda* as the baby bear
does of flying!” exclaimed Case.

The boys on shore watched the race for some
moments, and then saw the pirate boat surrender.
She was taken back upstream, where she was
anchored beside the *Rambler*.

The prisoners were taken out and added to the
collection on the shore. They were then turned
over to the lieutenant, who at once started toward
El Paso with them.

“Hope you’ll have a fine trip,” said the
lieutenant, at parting. “You boys certainly deserve
something good!”

“Good luck to you!” cried Clay. “Only for your
help, we’d be in a bad fix right now. I don’t see
how you happened along so opportunely.”

“We were patrolling the shore,” was the
explanation, “and saw that help was needed.”

With which unsatisfactory reply the march
northward was resumed.

There was very little conversation between the
boys until the *Rambler* was reached. Then Clay
tried to express the gratitude of the party, but
was promptly headed off by Rube.

“We only did our duty!” he said.

Then the guardianship matter was broached, and
of course both Rube and Buck declined to have
anything to do with it.

“Oh, I’ll talk them into it!” laughed Paul.

And he did!

The remainder of the trip, which was shared
by Rube and Buck, was one long dream of
contentment. There were moonlight nights on the Rio
Grande when all Nature seemed in repose.

When the Gulf of Mexico was reached, Alex
gave many exhibitions of his skill as a fisherman,
and the rivalry between the two motor boats was
keen.

Captain Joe, who reached the shore at the
landing near the mouth of the Pecos river just in time
to be taken on board the boat, had many a race with
the boys along the sands of the Gulf, and seemed
to enjoy every minute of it.

Long before the *Rambler* returned to the North,
Teddy Junior was playing with the dog, rolling
over and over on the deck of the *Rambler* in many
a mad frolic.

When at last the *Rambler* and *Esmeralda*
returned northward, taking passage for both motor
boats on a slow-sailing vessel, they were landed at
New York, whence the boats were shipped to
Chicago by rail.

When Chicago was reached, it was discovered
that all the time of the two guardians would be
required, so they reluctantly resigned their offices
and devoted their time to the handling of Paul’s
large estate.

“Say, Buck,” laughed Alex, after the boys were
settled at school again, “what would we have done
without the *Esmeralda*? We certainly should have
lost the *Rambler*.”

“And without Rube’s bank roll we might have
been obliged to walk back to Chicago!” put in Jule.

“But that is all past and gone,” said Buck, “so
what’s the use of bringing it up?”

The newspapers, a few days later, contained the
announcement that the counterfeiters and the band
of river thieves who were working for the reward
which had been offered by the old miser—now in
his grave—had all been sentenced to long terms in
prison.

When he read the announcement Alex only
sighed.

“They deserved it all!” he declared.

.. vspace:: 3

.. class:: center

   THE END

.. pgfooter::