CHAPTER XII.
A BAFFLING PURSUIT.
But a close scrutiny of the river banks by daylight failed to revealanything more definite than a maze of trampled footmarks and brokenbrush at the spot where Jack had encountered his combat with the threeMexican spies. Captain Atkinson, one of the most expert of men in theplainsman’s art of reading signs from seemingly insignificant features,confessed that he was baffled.
“It is plain enough that Jack was involved in some sort of a fight,”he said, “but beyond that I cannot say. The most puzzling thing abouthis disappearance, in fact, lies in the absence of pony tracks. I can’timagine how whoever it was attacked him reached this vicinity withoutbeing heard by the sentries east and west of the trail.”
“Can it not be possible that in some manner he fell into the river andwas swept away by the swift current?” inquired Ralph.
The captain shook his head.
“Of course, it is possible, but it hardly lies within the range ofprobabilities,” he declared.
They were still discussing the extraordinary situation when Baldyuttered an exclamation. He had been examining the river bank and now heheld up a bit of rope that he had discovered on the verge of the stream.
“Look here, cap,” he cried, “I’m a long–horned maverick if this ain’tqueer.”
“A bit of rope, eh, Baldy?” rejoined the captain. “Well, that wouldseem to indicate that something had been tied there. Clearly it was nota horse or we should see the tracks. It must then have been————”
“A boat!” burst in Walt, unable to control himself.
“How could a boat ever get along in this shallow, swirling stream?”cried Ralph.
“No; but some contrivance of logs that would float, such as a raft,might have navigated the river,” suggested Captain Atkinson, littleguessing how close he was to the truth.
The captain now had the rope in his hands and was examining the frayedend.
“This rope has been recently severed,” he decided.
“Cut?” questioned Ralph.
“No, broken,” was the rejoinder.
“Then ther kid must have gone down the river,” said Baldy.
“Undoubtedly,” rejoined the captain.
“In that case we must follow the stream in search of him,” cried Walt.
“Yes. We will start as soon as possible, too. Baldy, see thateverything is made ready for us at once.”
“Ain’t I going along, cap?” pleaded Baldy.
“No; I shall leave you in command of the camp till I return. In themeantime the boys and I will ride back with you to camp and prepare forour expedition.”
The boys’ faces were flushed with excitement as the return ride wasbegun. Eagerly they discussed between themselves the probabilities ofrecovering Jack, while the captain rode with bowed head as if buriedin thought. The mystery of Jack’s fate worried him deeply, and he wasbeginning to think that there were more complications to it than he hadat first imagined.
It was an hour after that the search party set forth. They carriedblankets, emergency kits, food, firearms and hatchets. Also each hada stout rawhide lariat, each “rope” being about forty feet in length.Thus equipped they started out on what was to prove a most eventfuljourney, and one in which they were destined to encounter moresurprises than they dreamed.
By sunset the first day of their search they found themselves in a wildcanyon through which the river flowed swiftly. Camp was made at a spotnear which a clear spring of water gushed from a wall of the place. Itwas slightly alkaline, but they did not mind that, as it was preferableeven as it was to the muddy, discolored waters of the Rio Grande. Theponies were picketed, a fire was lighted, supper cooked and things putin order for the night.
It was not a cheerful party that gathered about the camp fire. All ofthem were pretty well exhausted and disheartened by their absolutefailure to find any trace of Jack. Captain Atkinson alone would notadmit discouragement. He did all he could to keep up the flaggingspirits of the two lads, and after supper had been despatched heinquired if they would care to hear some of his experiences on theBorder.
“Gladly,” declared Ralph, relieved to hear something that might, for atime at least, take his mind off the possible predicament of his chum.
Captain Atkinson paused to cram his old black pipe with strong tobacco,light it with a glowing coal, and then plunged into his story. As hetalked the murmuring voice of the river and the sighing of the nightwind in the scanty trees of the canyon formed a fitting accompanimentto his narrative.
“Some years ago,” he began, “I was foreman of a small ranch in theneighborhood of Las Animos, in the eastern part of the state. It wasat a time when cattle and horse thieves, ‘rustlers’ as we call them,had been particularly active. Hardly a rancher in the vicinity but hadsuffered from their depredations, and feeling ran pretty high againstthem, I can tell you.
“Well, our ranch, which was known as the Flying U, had managed somehowto escape unscathed, although all round us the rustlers had beenoperating boldly and openly. Their method was to raid a ranch, drivethe cattle or horses across the Border and then sell them to Mexicandealers, who drove them to the coast and there disposed of them as bestthey could. Many were shipped to European ports, so I heard.
But it was impossible that our ranch should long remain untouched inthe midst of the general robberies and rascality going on. Although weguarded against it in every possible way, one night our ‘Far Pasture’as it was called, was raided and a fine bunch of young steers carriedoff. It was known that the leader of the band was a man named Alvarez;but beyond this fact and the further one that he had been a leader inseveral of the frequent revolutions in his country, we knew littleabout him. He was, however, without doubt the most successful anddaring rustler that the Border was ever harassed with.
“In fact, so bold was he, and so impossible of capture did he appear,that some of the more superstitious men in the district began to hintthat he was of supernatural origin. Those were wild, uncultured days,and the belief began to spread. Every fresh raid added strength to therumor, until at the time of the robbery of the Flying U I was unableto persuade anyone to accompany me in pursuit of Alvarez; for I wasdetermined to take after the rascal even if the chase led me across theBorder.
“It may have been a foolish resolve, but I was younger then andhot–blooded. Well, when I found that I would have to go alone or losevaluable time getting some men to accompany me, I delayed no longer. Ioiled up my revolver and rifle and loaded some provisions on my saddle,together with a roll of blankets. Then, with a tough little pinto ponythat was good for his fifty miles a day, I took the trail.