CHAPTER XV.

  A SHOT IN THE DARK.

  "What can I do for you?" again asked Villa, as the boys did not at oncereply, not knowing exactly what to say, nor how to say it in thepresence of a third person.

  "We have a message for you from a fellow patriot," Adrian finallyreplied. "Perhaps it would be better if we entered your house."

  "My casa is a very humble one," replied Villa, "but, if you will deignto honor it with your presence, you are quite welcome, _senores_."

  The boys alighted and threw their bridle-reins over a post at the sideof the gate.

  "Stay here and watch the gentlemen's horses, Secundino," said Villa tothe guide, who was about to leave. "If you see anyone lurking about,call."

  "_Bueno_" was the reply and the guide threw himself down beside thehorses.

  The boys entered the house, followed by Villa. As their guide had said,it was a poor house, but it was comfortable and clean. Its onlyfurniture consisted of a few chairs, a table, a bed, and some rugs onthe floor. A single candle furnished the light.

  "Now, _senores_," said Villa, after they had all been seated, "we cantalk without being interrupted. What is your message, and from whom?"

  "Our message," replied Adrian, who seemed to have made himself thespokesman, "is a warning. It is from one who calls himself onlySantiago."

  "Santiago!" exclaimed Pancho. "Santiago! And how did he come to makestrangers--Americans--the bearer of a message to Pancho Villa?"

  "It is a long story," replied Adrian, "but if you will listen we shallbe glad to explain."

  "No story is too long, if it is the truth," said Villa.

  "Which this is," declared Adrian earnestly, and for the second time thatevening the events of the past few days were rehearsed.

  "And you mean to tell me that Rafael Solis attempted to kidnap the sonof General Sanchez?"

  "That is exactly what he did," declared Billie, who had scarcely beenable to keep quiet while Adrian was talking. "And he would havesucceeded, too, if we had not been there to help him escape."

  "But that isn't the worst, to my way of thinking," exclaimed Donald."The worst thing was his assault upon Santiago!"

  "He explained that to me by saying that Santiago was playing into thehands of the _haciendados_," declared Villa, meaning by the"_haciendados_" the rich landowners, who for years have been grindingthe peons under their heel.

  "Explained to you!" exclaimed Billie. "Then you have seen him?"

  "He left me not an hour ago."

  "It is none of our business," said Donald, "but as we are interested inSantiago, we should be glad to know what he wanted."

  "Just what you might expect--to help him overthrow President Madero, who,he says, is just as bad as was Diaz."

  "Do you think he is?" asked Billie, who had become much interested inMexican affairs during the past few days.

  "_Quien sabe!_" was Villa's non-committal reply. "We hope not, butMexico has suffered much from those who should have been her friends."

  "Well, whatever President Madero may be," said Adrian emphatically, "DonRafael is a scoundrel and murderer at heart."

  For several minutes Villa made no reply, then with a shake of his head:"Time will tell!"

  A few minutes later, when the boys were leaving the house, he said: "Youmay tell Santiago that he can depend upon me to do the right thing. I amworking for Mexico--not for Pancho Villa."

  "We are sure you are," was Adrian's reply, and the others echoed hiswords.

  Tossing a peso to the peon who had been guarding their horses, the boysmounted and slowly rode back the way they had come. They had almostreached the plaza when there was a pistol shot in their rear, followedby a cry of pain.

  Without stopping to consider what their action might lead to, the boyswith one accord wheeled about and dashed back down the street. Thestreet was as deserted as when they passed up it a moment before. Whenthey reached Villa's house they drew rein and called loudly, but therewas no response.

  "That's mighty strange," said Donald, after they had called a couple oftimes with like result. "What do you suppose has happened?"

  "Can't imagine," replied Billie. "Maybe he doesn't hear us. I'll knock."

  He dismounted and gave the door, which was still ajar, a vigorous thump,but no one replied. Then suddenly, while they were wondering what theyhad better do, there was a sound of voices at the head of the street,and a moment later a crowd of people, headed by several policemen, camehastily down to where they were standing.

  "There they are! There they are!" cried out a voice. "They are the menwho were with him!" And the speaker pointed at the three boys.

  "What's the matter?" asked Adrian, as the policemen stopped at his side.

  "This man says you have been plotting with Pancho Villa to start a newrevolution."

  "Nonsense!" exclaimed Adrian. "You know that Villa is a friend ofPresident Madero."

  "Yes, everybody knows that," said the other policeman.

  "How about that?" the first policeman asked, turning to their accuser.

  "That's what I said," declared the man. "I said they were trying to getPancho to join a revolution against the president."

  The boys by this time had a chance to take a good look at the man, andrecognized him as the one who had guided them to Villa's house.Whereupon Donald exclaimed, with considerable warmth: "That's a lie, andyou know it." Then to the policemen: "You don't have to take our word;ask Pancho."

  "Of course," replied the policeman, and he approached Villa's door andknocked loudly.

  But, as in the case of the boys, there was no reply.

  "Where has he gone?" asked the policeman, turning to Adrian.

  "I don't know. He was here just a few minutes ago; but when we came backto see who was shot, he was gone."

  "What's that?" asked the policeman. "Did you say somebody was shot?"

  "We thought so. We were riding up the street when we heard a shot,followed by a cry. We came back to find out about it. That's how wehappen to be here now."

  "What did you find?"

  "Nothing!" replied Adrian.

  The policeman eyed the boys fiercely.

  "Don't try to make fools of us," said one.

  "No," declared the other, "we are not to be played with by any youngGringoes. We don't believe any such story."

  "I can't help it whether you believe or not," retorted Adrian angrily."It is the truth!"

  "We shall see," declared the first policeman. "You come with us to the_cuartel_. The _jeffe politico_ will have to look into this."

  "Now we are in for it," said Billie, under his breath. "The next time Ihear a Mexican shoot another I'll ride the other way."

  "Where do you suppose Villa can have gone to?" asked Donald of the othertwo, as they rode along behind the policeman, followed by a shouting,hooting mob.

  "Give it up," replied Adrian. "It couldn't have been he that was shot."

  "Who knows?" said Billie suddenly. "No one entered the house. He may belying in there dead."

  "That's so!" exclaimed Adrian, "I'll suggest it to the policeman."

  "Not as you value your life," interrupted Donald. "If by any chance theyshould find him dead, they'd accuse us of killing him."

  All this had been said in English, of which the policemen did notunderstand a word. In fact, had it been said in Spanish, it is doubtfulif the policemen could have heard, on account of the hooting and thecries of "Down with the Americanos! Death to the Gringoes!"

  "If they ever get us locked up," said Donald, a moment later, "it'sgoing hard with us. We've simply got to get away!"

  "All right!" replied Billie. "You lead the way."

  "Wait till the right moment and keep your eye on me. When I shout, bothof you join in and we'll try and stampede this herd."

  Slowly they rode along the narrow street and finally emerged on to theplaza. Here the street was much wider, and the crowd became less dense,although no smaller numerically.

  As they passed one of the _can
tinas_, a gang of half-drunken railroadlaborers of various nationalities came out, singing and shouting. Amongthem were several Americans, seeing which Donald gave a wild yell,crying at the top of his voice:

  "Hurrah for Uncle Sam!"

  Billie and Adrian joined in the cry, at the same time putting spurs totheir horses, which sprang forward, upsetting the policemen and creatinga tumult which quickly became a riot, as the Americans in the crowd tookup the cry and shouted lustily for Uncle Sam.

  In the confusion which followed shots rang out from every side, most ofthem fired into the air, and there was a general scurrying to shelter bythe natives, who had learned to get out of the way when a crowd of trackhands and cowboys began to shoot up the town. Taking advantage of this,the boys dashed out of the light of the plaza, and were soon well ontheir way to the river; and it was none too soon, for, attracted by thecommotion, a band of rurales was ordered out to arrest every foreignerfound on the street.

  "It was some excitement while it lasted," remarked Billie, as theygained the American side. "I think I'll stay out of Mexico for a while."

  "What!" exclaimed Donald, "with Don Rafael still at large?"

  "Yes," said Adrian, "how about your promise?"

  "By George!" exclaimed Billie. "The excitement had driven it entirelyout of my mind--and besides, I must learn what has become of Villa."

 
Lester Chadwick's Novels
»The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trailby Lester Chadwick
»The Radio Detectivesby Lester Chadwick
»Polly's First Year at Boarding Schoolby Lester Chadwick
»Batting to Win: A Story of College Baseballby Lester Chadwick
»The Rival Pitchers: A Story of College Baseballby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe, Captain of the Team; or, Bitter Struggles on the Diamondby Lester Chadwick
»The Broncho Rider Boys with the Texas Rangersby Lester Chadwick
»Grit A-Plenty: A Tale of the Labrador Wildby Lester Chadwick
»The Eight-Oared Victors: A Story of College Water Sportsby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe on the Giants; or, Making Good as a Ball Twirler in the Metropolisby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe on the School Nine; or, Pitching for the Blue Bannerby Lester Chadwick
»For the Honor of Randall: A Story of College Athleticsby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe of the Silver Stars; or, The Rivals of Riversideby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe at Yale; or, Pitching for the College Championshipby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe in the World Series; or, Pitching for the Championshipby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe in the Central League; or, Making Good as a Professional Pitcherby Lester Chadwick
»The Winning Touchdown: A Story of College Footballby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe, Home Run King; or, The Greatest Pitcher and Batter on Recordby Lester Chadwick
»Bolax, Imp or Angel—Which?by Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe in the Big League; or, A Young Pitcher's Hardest Strugglesby Lester Chadwick