CHAPTER XV.
A FRIENDLY VOICE.
In the work that followed, Jack Greenland showed that he was no novicein woodcraft, but it would take more space than I can give to it todescribe minutely the details of what I shall only attempt to outline.It would not do for them to leave the thick fringe of bushesoverhanging the road, and yet, in order to accomplish his purpose, itwas necessary for them to shorten the space between them and the rebelriders under "El Capitan," as the mountain insurgent was called. To dothis more safely, Jack retreated about a yard, and then crept forwardin the same direction of the road. In spite of his extreme caution,Ronie heard a stick snap under his knee, when his heart came into hismouth. Fortunately, one of the horses stamped its foot at this moment,and thus the fainter sound was drowned by the heavier. Then the harshvoice of the insurgent was heard to exclaim:
"Fire on the head of the laggard! I cannot wait here any longer.Forward, men! on to the mansion, which shall be the cage for our bird."
Without further delay the body of half a dozen riders struck theirimpatient steeds smartly with their spurs, and would have swiftlydisappeared from the scene, but for an accident to the foremost. Hisanimal, thus suddenly aroused, reared into the air and then plungedforward, but, either stepping into a hole or stumbling, it staggeredahead, coming nearly upon its knees. Its rider was flung headlong intothe bushes within a hand's reach of our amateur scouts!
This mishap plunged the rest of the riders into confusion, nearlyunseating Rhoades himself, but who rallied with a horrible imprecationupon the head of his unfortunate follower. With rare presence of mindthe woman on the gray horse wheeled her spirited animal quickly aroundto make a bold dash for freedom. There were horsemen behind her, butthat was her only way of escape, if she could hope to get away at all.In a moment the entire scene had become one of wildest excitement, andabove the clatter of hoofs and the cries of his men, rang the voice ofthe leader, as he swung his own horse around, calling upon hispanic-stricken followers:
"Don't let her escape! Shoot her if must be, but stop her!"
The mountain outlaw was about to carry out his own order, when hereceived a terrific blow from Jack Greenland, which tumbled him fromhis seat to the ground. Jack and Ronie had been quick to perceive thatin this exciting tableau lay their chance of action.
"Mount the free horse and ride down the road for your life!" said Jack."A bold dash will carry us through."
Then he sprang forward to capture the horse ridden by the insurgentchief, knowing that, could he be successful in this, it would throw thesquad into confusion. Without a leader they were not likely to make avery effective pursuit. I have described the result of his swift anddaring onset. And, as Rhoades, stunned by the blow, sank helpless tothe earth, the fearless American seized the bridle rein of thefrightened horse before it could clear itself from the hand of itsformer master. Almost simultaneously with this action Jack would havebeen in the saddle, but for the fact that the right foot of theinsurgent had caught in the stirrup. This caused a brief delay, but,wrenching the offending limb aside, the captor vaulted into the seatjust as two or three shots whistled through the air at random from thediscomfited insurgents, who were at a loss to account for just what wasbeing enacted in their midst. One of these bullets cut away a lock ofhis silvered hair, but, unminding his narrow escape, he turned thehorse sharply about, crying to the woman, who had succeeded in headingher steed down the road:
"Ride for your life. It is your only hope."
She had already reached the outside circle of the little group, and herhorse, a spirited one, cleared the last of the dismayed riders, to bearher down the way at a terrific pace, her long, black hair streaming inthe wind as she sped on. Once a white face was turned backward for amoment, and then she disappeared from sight.
Meanwhile Ronie was having an experience equally as exciting and evenmore dangerous to his life and liberty. He had succeeded in catchingupon the bridle of the horse that had thrown its rider, and he gainedthe saddle an instant later, while the terrified animal reared andplunged furiously. But the young engineer had secured a firm hold onthe reins, and was likely to obtain quick control over the creature,when he found stout hands laid on the bridle with a power which threwthe struggling brute back upon its haunches.
The attack of the insurgents, three in number, was so sudden andpowerful that Ronie's escape seemed impossible.
"Shoot the dog!" cried one of the insurgents.
"Don't let him get away!" exclaimed the chief, who had rallied by thistime sufficient to realize something of the situation.
Ronie knew he could expect no assistance from Jack, who was having allhe could attend to, and he resolved to make a desperate attempt to getaway. Accordingly, he whipped out the stout knife which had been givenhim by Manuel Marlin, and as the shots of his enemies sped past hishead, he cut the reins upon which the insurgents were clinging, whenthe men, suddenly losing their hold, staggered forward, leaving theanimal freed from their clutches.
Finding itself thus relieved of the weight dragging it down, the horseflung up its head, gave vent to a wild snort, and bounded madly overtheir writhing forms, to rush like a whirlwind down the road, scarcelya head behind Jack, mounted on the chief's fleet-footed steed. Thoughnearly unseated by this abrupt onset, Ronie held fast to his position,while he was borne on at a rate of speed which fairly took away hisbreath. Even Jack, going at his terrific pace, was passed, and thenthe woman on the stout gray was outdistanced. Without check orguidance to its headlong flight, Ronie soon found that his horse wasrunning away!
The cries and the rifle shots of his enemies were soon lost in thedistance, but the young engineer had barely recovered his equilibrium,so to speak, when he became conscious of the approach of a body ofhorsemen from ahead. Naturally expecting only enemies, he began towonder how he was to come out of this new danger. The sounds of theapproaching horses told that this party were coming at a gait almost asswift as that by which he was carried along. Thus he was not givensufficient time in which to prepare for the meeting, if any preparationcould be made by him in his plight, before he found himself carriedinto the very midst of a squad of a dozen horsemen, sweeping toward himat a breakneck pace. Wild shouts rang in his ears, but if efforts weremade to stop him he was not aware of it. In some manner, never quiteplain to him, he was carried through the party of riders, brushingagainst them on the right and left, but clearing them in an incrediblespace of time, to be still carried on with unabated speed.
So far Ronie had not gathered his scattered faculties enough to act,but now, remembering that the bridle was still left on the head of thehorse he bestrode, he leaned forward and grasped the side straps closedown to the bit. Perhaps the animal had begun to tire of its wild race.
At any rate, it quickly yielded to the strong hands wrenching at itsmouth, and began to slacken its speed.
All this really took place in less time than it has taken to describeit, even in outline, and the excitement and confusion of the surprisedriders in his rear were yet ringing in his ears, when Ronie, for thesecond time, became aware of the approach of horsemen. But before hecould obtain control of his own horse, or anticipate who might now bein his pathway, a stentorian voice thundered in English:
"Halt! Who comes here?"