The Border Boys on the Trail

After shouting for an hour or more, Ralph and Walt grew tired of the exercise. As for the professor, with his usual philosophy he had made the best of the situation by surveying their prison, which was a small, barn-like building of adobe. There was nothing very remarkable about it, except that three Americans had been imprisoned there for no apparent reason.

At nightfall they were brought some food, and frantic efforts were made by Walt to interrogate the Mexican who served them, but to no avail. The fellow only shook his head stupidly, and pretended not to understand.

"Whatever are we locked up here for, anyhow?" demanded Ralph, for the fiftieth time, as they ate their evening meal.

"Give it up," said Walt with a shrug.

"You don't think it can have anything to do with Black Ramon, do you?" inquired the professor.

"Not likely," rejoined Walt; "even down here there is some law and order, and the townsfolk of this place, whatever it is, would hardly be in league with a band of robbers."

"Then what do you suppose they have detained us for?"

"As I said before, Ralph, I give it up. Maybe it's for having red hair and looking suspiciously like Americans."

Soon after some blankets were thrown in to them, which they spread on the not overclean floor, and, being tired out, were soon asleep. In the morning they were awakened, and passed a long, dreary day in the semi-darkness.

"I can't stand this much longer," Ralph burst out, on the second night of their imprisonment. "If something doesn't happen soon, I'm going to escape."

"How?" inquired the practical Walt, gazing about at the thick walls and the small windows of their place of captivity.

"I don't know how, but I will, you can bet," said Ralph decisively.

"Well, I'm going to sleep," said Walt; and, accordingly, he curled himself up in his blanket and was soon wrapped in slumber. The professor followed his example, but Ralph could not sleep. What, with worry over their own situation and wondering how his friends, whom he believed were still captives in the mission, were faring, his eyes were wide open till past midnight.

At that hour the quiet of the village was disturbed by a sudden sound – the trample of horses' hoofs and the clanking of metal.

"Black Ramon has found out we are here and is coming for us," was Ralph's first thought.

But the trampling went on, and suddenly a bugle call sounded.

"Soldiers!" exclaimed Ralph.

Hastily he awoke the others, and, after a prolonged period of listening, there was little doubt from the military character of the sounds outside that the newcomers were indeed troops.

"Maybe they are out after the brigands," gasped Ralph, in a hopeful tone.

"If only we could see their commander and explain our predicament to him," wished the professor.

"And get laughed at for your pains," supplemented Walt.

In the morning, so early that the dawn was still gray, their jailer aroused them. Wondering what could be going to happen, the boys hurriedly put on the few clothes they had taken off the night before, and, with the professor, obeyed his signal to follow him.

They were quickly conducted before the short, pursy man, who had committed them to their cell. Now, however, he was all smiles and condescension.

The reason for this may have lain in the fact that a smart-looking officer of the Mexican cavalry stood by his side and eyed the boys with interest as they came in. He was in command of the troops that had arrived the night before, and which, though the boys had not guessed it, were the ones summoned from Los Hominos.

It now appeared that the fat dignitary could talk passable English when he chose, and, as the boys entered, he greeted them with an airy:

"Good morning."

"Good morning," sputtered Ralph, indignation taking the place of prudence. "You ought to beg our pardons. What have we done to be locked up like criminals? We demand a hearing. We – "

"There, there," said the stout man soothingly; "all is well. This officer has told me that in all probability you are respectable, and – "

"In all probability?" burst out the professor, "I am Professor Wintergreen, of Stonefell College, and this young man is my charge, Ralph Stetson, and this other gentleman is Walter Phelps, the son of a rancher."

"The names I have on my list as being among those imprisoned by Black Ramon," interrupted the officer. "Pray, señors, how did you escape?"

"Tell us first why we are locked up," demanded Ralph.

"Why, as I understand it, this worthy man, who is mayor of this village, merely had you detained on suspicion. He thought you might be horse thieves, and – "

"Me a horse thief!" shouted the professor.

"You forget your appearance is – " began the officer, but was interrupted by a good-natured laugh from all three of the adventurers. True, they had forgotten how they must have looked after their adventure in the tunnel. Later, when they saw a mirror, they did not blame the fat mayor so much. Plastered with dirt and mud, scratched and ragged, they did, indeed, look unlike the three trim persons who had set out from the American foothills in pursuit of Black Ramon.

"But he could have found out who we were by asking us," protested Ralph.

"He tells me he was going to do so – to-morrow."

"You forgot we are in the land of manana," reminded the professor.

After some more palaver, the mayor signified that the three Americans could have their liberty, and apologized for their detention on behalf of himself and his village.

It was soon explained to the boys by the officer that he was hastening with fifty picked men to round up the rustlers who had long infested that part of Mexico.

"But," he admitted, "had we not fallen in with you, we would hardly have known where to find them."

"No, the last place you would look for them would be in a church," grinned Walt.

Soon after, the boys, having despatched a hasty breakfast, the cavalry set out. The boys rode in advance to guide them to the retreat of Black Ramon and his men. The professor ambled along, sitting uneasily on the saddle which had now been provided for him. It was a long time before he recovered from his bareback ride on the old ranch horse.

"If these fellows are Mexican cavalry, they are all right," said Ralph, admiringly looking at the easy riding and smart equipment of the fifty men under the friendly officer.

"They are rurales," explained the officer; "a section of the army kept especially for hunting brigands and robbers. Most of them are former brigands themselves, but there are no better men for the work."

By mid-afternoon they came in sight of the old mission, and, as they approached it, the boys gave a shout of astonishment, which was echoed by the professor.

Riding toward them, from the opposite direction, was a band of horsemen. Faster they came in their direction, seemingly spurring onward to destruction.

"Those greasers must be crazy," exclaimed Ralph, gazing at what seemed a suicidal act. "They're riding right at us."

Suddenly a dip in the foothills hid the approaching horsemen, but the thunder of their hoofs could still be heard. Could Ramon have an ambush on the other side of the rise, wondered Ralph.

The same thought must have come to the Mexican officer, for he gave a curt order and his men, bursting into a wild yell, drew their carbines from their holsters and prepared to use them.

"We'll fire when they come over the ridge," whispered the captain to Ralph.