CHAPTER V
THE GHOST OF THE SAN MIGUEL
Juan Alvarez had not been in San Felippe since Dick Martin left, whichmeant for over a month. Martin was down the river looking for a man whodid not wish to be found; and some said that Martin cared nothing aboutinternational boundaries when he wanted any one real bad. And there wasthat geologist who wore blue glasses and was always puttering around inthe canyon and hammering chips of rock off the steep walls; he must haveslipped one noon, because his body was found on a flat boulder at theedge of the stream. Manuel had found it and wanted to be paid for histrouble in bringing it to town--but Manuel was a fool. Who, indeed,would pay good money for a dead Gringo, especially after he was dead?And there were three cow-punchers holding a herd of 6-X cattle upnorth, an hour or so from the town. They wanted to buy steers from SenorRodriguez, but said that he was a robber and threatened to cut his earsoff. Cannot a man name his own price? These cow-punchers liked to getdrunk and gallop through San Felippe, shooting like crazy men. They gotdrunk one Friday night and went shouting and singing to the Big Bend inthe canyon to see the flying ghost, and they called it names and firedoff their pistols and sang loudly; and for a week they insulted all theMexicans in town by calling them liars and cowards. Was it the faultof any one that the ghost would show itself only to Mexicans? Oh, theseGringos--might the good God punish them for their sins!
Thus the peons complained to the padre while they kept one eye open forthe advent of the rowdy cow-punchers, who always wanted to drink, andthen to fight with some one, either with fists or pistols. Why shouldany one fight with them, especially with such things as fists?
"Let them fight among themselves. What have you to do with heretics?"reproved the good padre, who ostracized himself from the pleasant partsof the wide world that he might make easier the life and struggles ofhis ignorant flock. "God is not hasty--He will punish in His own waywhen it best suits Him. And perhaps you will profit much if you are moreregular to mass instead of wasting the cool hours of the morning in bed.Think well of what I have said, my children."
But the cow-punchers were not punished and they swore they would notleave the vicinity until they had all the steers they wanted, and attheir own price. And one night their herd stampeded and was checkedonly in time to save it from going over the canyon's edge. And for somereason Sanchez kept out of the padre's way and did not go to confesswhen he should, for the padre spoke plainly and set hard obligations forpenance.
The cow-punchers swore that it had been done by some Mexican and saidthat they would come to town some day soon and kill three Mexicansunless the guilty one was found and brought to them. Then the padremounted his donkey and went out to them to argue and they finally toldhim they would wait for two weeks. But the padre was too smart forthem--he sent a messenger to find Senor Dick Martin, and in one weekSenor Martin came to town. There was no fight. The Gringo rowdies werecowards at heart and Martin could not shoot them down in cold blood,and he could not arrest them, because he was not a policeman or even asheriff, but only a revenue officer, which was a most foolish law. Buthe watched them all the time and wanted them to fight--there was no moreshooting or drunkenness in town. Nobody wanted to fight Senor Martin,for he was a great man. He even went so far as to talk with them aboutit and wave his arms, but they were as frightened at him as littlechildren might be.
So the Mexicans gossiped and exulted, some of the bolder of them evenswaggering out to the Gringo camp; but Martin drove them back again,saying he would not allow them to bully men who could not retaliate,which was right and fair. Then, afraid to go away and leave the madcow-punchers so close to town, he ordered them to drive their herdfarther east, nearer to Dent's store, and never to return to San Felippeunless they needed the padre; and they obeyed him after a long talk.After seeing them settled in their new camp, which was on Mondaymorning, Martin returned to San Felippe and told the padre where hecould be found and then rode away again. San Felippe celebrated fora whole day and two Mexican babies were christened after Senor DickMartin, which was honor all around.
Friday, when Manuel went over to spy upon the cow-punchers in their newcamp, he found them so drunk that they could not stand, and before hecrept away at dusk two of them were sleeping like gorged snakes and thethird was firing off his revolver at random, which diversion had not alittle to do with Manuel's departure.
When Manuel crept away he headed straight for a crevice near the wall ofthe canyon at the Big Bend and, reaching it, looked all around and thendropped into it. Not long thereafter another Mexican appeared, this onefrom San Felippe, and also disappeared into the crevice. As darknessfell Manuel reappeared with something under his jacket and a momentlater a light gleamed at the base of a slender sapling which grew on theedge of the canyon wall and leaned out over the abyss. It was cleverlyplaced, for only at one spot on the Mexican side of the distant RioGrande could it be seen--the high canyon walls farther down screened itfrom any one who might be riding on the north bank of the river. In amoment there came an answering twinkle and Manuel, covering the lanternwith a blanket, was swallowed up in the darkness of the crevice.
Without a trace of emotion, Dick Martin, from his place of concealment,caught the answering gleam, and he watched Manuel disappear. "Cassidywas right in every point; Lewis or Sayre couldn't 'a' done thisbetter. I hope he won't be late," he muttered, and settled himself morecomfortably to wait for the cue for action, smiling as the moon pokedits rim over the low hills to his right. "This means promotion for me,or I've very much mistaken," he chuckled.
Hopalong was not late and as soon as it was dark he and his companionsstole into the canyon on foot. They felt their way down the east end ofthe trail, not far from Dent's, toward the Big Bend, which they gainedwithout a mishap. Johnny was sent up to a place they had noticed andmarked in their memories at the time they had rioted down to defy theghost. He was to stop any one trying to escape up the San Felippe endof the canyon trail, and his confidence in his ability to do this wasexuberant. Hopalong and Red slowly and laboriously worked their way downthe perilous path leading to the bottom, forded the stream, and crept upthe other side, where they found cover not far from a wide crack in thecanyon wall. Upon the occasion of their hilarious visit to the Big Bendthey had observed that a faint trail led to the crack and had cogitateddeeply upon this fact.
Three hours passed before the watchers in and above the canyon wererewarded by anything further; and then a light flickered far down thecanyon and close to the edge of the stream. Immediately strange noiseswere heard and suddenly the ghost swung out of the opening in the rockwall near Hopalong and Red and danced above their heads, while theshrieking which had so frightened Johnny and his horse filled the canyonwith uproar and sent Martin wriggling nearer to the crevice which he hadwatched so closely. The noise soon ceased, but the ghost danced on, andthe sound of men stumbling along the rocky ledge bordering the streambecame more and more audible. Four were in the party and they allcarried bulky loads on their backs and grunted with pleasure andrelief as they entered the entrance in the wall. When the last man haddisappeared and the noise of their passing had died out, Johnny's ropesailed up and out, and the ghost swayed violently and then began to sagin an unaccountable manner towards the trail as the owner of the ropehitched its free end around a spur of rock and made it fast. Then hefeverishly scrambled down the steep path to join his friends.
Hopalong and Red, wriggling on their stomachs towards the crack in thewall, paused in amazement and stared across the canyon; and then theformer chuckled and whispered something in his companion's ear. "Thatwas why he lugged his rope along! He's just idiot enough to wanta souveneer an' plaything at the risk of losing the game. Comeon!--they'll tumble to what's up an' get away if we don't hustle."
When the two punchers cautiously and noiselessly entered the crackand felt their way along its rock walls they heard fluent swearing inSpanish by the man who worked the ghost, and who could not understandits sudden ambition to take root. It was made painfully c
lear to hima moment later when a pair of brawny hands reached out of the darknessbehind him and encircled his throat a hand's width below his gleamingcigarette. Another pair used cords with deftness and despatch and he wasleft by himself to browse upon the gag when all his senses returned.
Hopalong, with Red inconsiderately stepping on his heels, felt hisway along the wall of the crevice, alert and silent, his Colt nestlingcomfortably in his right hand, while the left was pushed out aheadfeeling for trouble. As they worked farther away from the canyon distantvoices could be heard and they forthwith proceeded even more cautiously.When Hopalong came to the second bend in the narrow passage he peeredaround it and stopped so abruptly that Red's nose almost spread itselfover the back of his head. Red's indignation was all the harder to bearbecause it must bloom unheard.
In a huge, irregular room, whose roof could not be discerned in the dimlight of the few candles, five men were resting in various attitudesof ease as they discussed the events of the night and tried to computetheir profits. They were secure, for Manuel, having by this time putaway the ghost and megaphone, was on duty at the mouth of the crevice,and he was as sensitive to danger as a hound.
"The risk is not much and the profits are large," remarked Pedro, inSpanish. "We must burn a candle for the repose of the soul of CarlosMartinez. It is he that made our plans safe. And a candle is not muchwhen we--"
"Hands up!" said a quiet voice, followed by grim commands. The Mexicansjumped as if stung by a scorpion, and could just discern two of therowdy gringo cow-punchers in the heavy shadows of the opposite wall, butthe candle light glinted in rings on the muzzles of their six-shooters.Had Manuel betrayed them? But they had little time or inclination forcogitation regarding Manuel.
"Easy there!" shouted Red, and Pedro's hand stopped when half way to hischest. Pedro was a gambler by nature, but the odds were too heavy and hesullenly obeyed the command.
"Stick 'em up! Stick 'em up! Higher yet, an' hold 'em there," purreda soft voice from the other end of the room, where Dick Martin smiledpleasantly upon them and wondered if there was anything on earth harderto pound good common sense into than a "Greaser's" head. His gun wasblue, but it was, nevertheless, the most prominent part of his make-up,even if the light was poor.
One of the Mexicans reached involuntarily for his gun, for he was agun-man by training; while his companions felt for their knives, deadlyweapons in a melee. Martin, crying, "Watch 'em, Cassidy!" side-steppedand lunged forward with the speed and skill of a boxer, and his hardleft hand landed on the point of Juan Alvarez' jaw with a force andprecision not to be withstood. But to make more certain that theMexican would not take part in any possible demonstration of resistance,Martin's right circled up in a short half-hook and stopped againstJuan's short ribs. Martin weighed one hundred and eighty pounds andpacked no fat on his well-knit frame.
At this moment a two-legged cyclone burst upon the scene in the personof Johnny Nelson, whose rage had been worked up almost to the weepingpoint because he had lost so much time hunting for the crevice whereit was not. Seeing Juan fall, and the glint of knives, he started into clean things up, yelling, "I'm a ghost! I'm a ghost! Take 'em alive!Take 'em alive!"
Hopalong and Red felt that they were in his way, and taking care of oneMexican between them, while Martin knocked out another, they watched theexits,--for anything was possible in such a chaotic mix-up,--and gaveJohnny plenty of room. The latter paused, triumphant, looked around tosee if he had missed any, and then advanced upon his friends and shovedhis jaw up close to Hopalong's face. "Tried to lose me, didn't you!Wouldn't wait for me! For seven cents an' a toothbrush I'd give youwhat's left!"
Red grabbed him by trousers and collar and heaved him into thepassageway. "Go out an' play with yore souveneer or we'll step on you!"
Johnny sat up, rubbed certain portions of his anatomy, and grinned. "Oh,I've got it, all right! I'm shore going to take that ghost home an' makesome of them fools _eat_ it!"
Martin smiled as he finished tying the last prisoner. "That's right,Nelson; you've got it on 'em this time. Make 'em chew it."