CHAPTER XIV

  SHUT IN

  “An earthquake!”

  Perhaps, after all, it was not so very strange that Bob should giveutterance to this exclamation. He had been thrown to the ground, andwith considerable violence too. The consequence of this rough treatmentwas a shortage of breath as he began to scramble to his feet again,though even this did not prevent his excited outcry.

  The cattle had been frightened by the sudden, fearful noise, and thetrembling of the earth. They were bellowing madly, and showing all thesigns that generally go before a stampede.

  The instinct of a stockman must have overcome the alarm Colonel Haywoodnaturally experienced himself at this unexpected happening.

  “Get busy, boys!” he shouted. “Take care of the stock first. Get themmilling, or we’ll have a stampede, and lose the whole bunch!”

  The nearest cowboy passed the word on to the next. Above the racket thenarose the cheery cries of the drivers, as they started upon thecustomary tactics to get the animals wheeling in a circle, so as toprevent a mad rush.

  There was no succeeding shock. After that one crash there came asilence. Birds that had been singing in the trees flew wildly away, buttheir songs were hushed. Here and there an animal could be seen dashingaway, or slinking through the underbrush, as though half dazed by theconcussion.

  Presently it was seen, much to the relief of Frank and Bob, who weredoing their best to assist, that the cattle had been held. They weremoving in a big circle, “milling” after the most approved methods of therange, and doing it in spite of the limited open space at the command ofthe cowboy band.

  “That danger is past, anyhow,” Frank remarked, as he wiped theperspiration from his forehead.

  “But we may have another shock, Frank,” said Bob, nervously, as helooked upward toward the peak of Thunder Mountain. “They say thesethings never go singly; and the first shake isn’t always the hardest ofthe lot, either. But I don’t see any smoke hanging over the cap upthere, Frank!”

  “Smoke?” echoed the other boy, looking puzzled.

  “Why, yes; there’s always a lot of it, you know, when a volcano startsto knocking things around,” Bob went on.

  It was a strange time to laugh, but all the same Frank seemed unable tokeep from doing it.

  “So that’s the idea you’ve got, is it, Bob?” he demanded.

  “Sure it is, and from what I heard some of the boys call out, I reckonI’m not the only one to believe it,” Bob made answer, withouthesitation.

  “And you don’t see any smoke up yonder around the top of our old friend,Thunder Mountain, eh?” asked Frank.

  “If there was any, it’s cleared away,” the other continued, “which Itake it would be queer; because once they start to pour out ashes, lavaand fire, these volcanoes keep it up for days and weeks.”

  “And seems to me the cap still fits snug up there, Bob; it doesn’t looklike anything had happened to blow it into a thousand pieces, as far asI can see.”

  “Yes, that’s what sets me to wondering, Frank. But you don’t act as ifyou took any stock in the idea?”

  “Well, to tell the honest truth, Bob, I don’t!” declared Frank.

  “But it couldn’t have been that geyser in the mountain, could it?” Bobwent on.

  “I should say not. No geyser in the world, or a dozen of the biggesttogether, could have made all that fierce row, and shaken the earth aswe felt it tremble. But Bob, though I didn’t happen to _see_ smoke,for I was tumbled down just as you were, I have _smelled_ itsince!”

  “You have?” burst out the Kentucky lad, eagerly. “Then that proves myidea, doesn’t it, Frank?”

  “Hardly,” returned the other, dryly. “In the first place, notice thatthe wind doesn’t happen to be coming from the direction of ThunderMountain at all, and smoke couldn’t reach us from there. It’s straightahead, in the direction of the little gap, or pass, we took to get intothis valley, and through which all cattle have to be driven, to enter orleave!”

  “Oh!” burst from Bob’s lips, as he seemed to grasp something of what hischum was hinting.

  “Another thing,” Frank went on, “there was something about the smell ofthat same smoke to remind me of powder, dynamite or such things, and notthe gas they say always comes with an outbreak from a volcano.”

  Bob stared at him. So great was his astonishment that his mouth evenopened, and Frank was forced to smile at the picture his chum presented.

  “Powder!” ejaculated Bob. “Then Frank, you believe that awful explosionwas caused by human hands, and not Nature: is that it?”

  Frank nodded.

  “It wasn’t the smash of a volcano breaking loose,” Bob went on, voicinghis surprise; “we won’t be drowned, or burned to cinders in a flood oflava flowing down the side of the mountain—it isn’t even a fiercelandslide that’s carried away half the old ridge; but just an every-dayexplosion—some miners, perhaps, blown up with all their stuff?”

  “Hold on, there; you’re going a step too far, Bob. I never had miners inmy head when I said that,” Frank remarked.

  “But who else would carry explosives around with them, and carelesslylet the whole outfit go up in one big smash?” demanded Bob.

  “Well, there’s Mendoza, for one,” the other said, quietly.

  “Mendoza? the rustler?” echoed Bob.

  “Sure.”

  “But Frank, you must be joking, because he’s shut up in that bunk-housegood and tight. How could Mendoza get ahead of us to the pass, and touchoff that big mine?”

  Even as Bob was saying this the expression on his face changed. Somesudden idea had found a speedy lodgement in his mind; and withoutwaiting for his chum to make any reply to his question he went on:

  “Oh! now I see what you mean, Frank; he must have had a mine planted,connected with his old cabin by a wire, and a battery! He fired thecharge from there; is that what you want to tell me, Frank?”

  “That’s what I believe,” replied the other, firmly.

  “But why would he do that, Frank? Do you think the miserable cowardexpected to blow us all up?” demanded Bob, with considerable heat.

  “Oh! I don’t know about that,” Frank went on, slowly, as though loath tobelieve the Mexican could be so vindictive; “but I do think Mendozawants to close the neck of the bottle here, so that dad can’t take hiscattle out of this valley.”

  “That sounds just like all I’ve heard of Mendoza!” cried Bob. “Iwouldn’t put it past him one minute. But Frank, he took big chances ofblowing us up at the same time. If we’d been closer, we might have beenhit by some of the rocks I heard falling like hail all around!”

  “That was our lookout, and Mendoza wasn’t going to trouble himself aboutmaking sure none of us were hurt. Stop and think, Bob; you’ll rememberhow he told dad, with one of his laughs, how we would never take thestock out of this valley? Well, he believes he’s fixed it that way rightnow!”

  “Then we’re in a nice pickle, aren’t we?” lamented the other saddle boy.“If he’s blown that little pass into a ruin, and cut off our only wayfor going out, we’ll never get the cattle through.”

  “Never is a long time, Bob; just wait till my dad gets to work. Healways rises to his best when in a hole like this. There he is, comingthis way with Bart and Scotty. Perhaps he hasn’t caught on as well as Idid; so let’s join them to find out.”

  It proved, however, that Colonel Haywood had guessed the true solutionof that fearful explosion just as his son had, through smelling thesmoke, and putting several things together.

  He had been telling the others his opinion, and Scotty was getting readyto push his way forward, in order to investigate. The others would allbe needed to keep the cattle quiet; though by degrees the fright of theanimals was wearing off, as they heard the reassuring calls of the cowpunchers around them.

  For a short time the party exchanged ideas, and the stockman was pleasedto find that Frank had appreciated the situation so fully.

  “As soon as I can sp
are a man I mean to send him back to the camp,” thestockman remarked. “Our two fellows will be wondering what terriblething has happened; and, not hearing anything from us, might be temptedto give over guarding the rustlers. It would only add to our troubles ifthe thieves broke loose, and started to play a sharp-shooting game,hiding along the side of the mountain, and pestering us with their fire.But first, Scotty, go ahead and find out if what we suspect is true.”

  Accordingly the cowboy started off. Duty with him took the lead aboveeverything else. No matter what might lie beyond, once Scotty had hisorders he stood ready to obey.

  Bart hurried back to assist his men in keeping the herd intact, untilthey could decide on their next move, which would not be until theskirmisher had reported.

  “If the pass has been blown up, what will we do then?” asked Bob.

  “That depends on how bad the wreck is,” replied the stockman, calmly.“If it is possible to dig a passage in a reasonable time, we may startto work.”

  “But if it’s out of the question, sir, will we have to abandon the herdafter all our fine work tracking them here?” Bob went on, plainlydisturbed.

  “We won’t cross that bridge till we come to it,” the Colonel said, witha tightening of his lips that Frank knew of old; “but you can depend onit, my boy, I’ll never abandon my cattle so long as there’s any chanceto save them. Our Fall round-up is due shortly now, and I’d feel prettyblue if one-third of my whole stock had been abandoned up here, to beslaughtered by these rustlers in revenge, after we left for home.”

  “Because, if we couldn’t get them out, they would be in the same fix, Ireckon you mean, sir?” Bob suggested.

  “Exactly; and Mendoza would rather kill every steer and cow and yearlingthan know they had fallen into my hands again. But Scotty ought to beback here very soon now, when we will at least know the worst,” and thestockman looked anxiously up the valley in the direction where he knewthe pass lay.

  “And there’s something moving right now, dad!” cried Frank, whose keenvision had enabled him to catch sight of the object before any one else.

  “That’s Scotty, all right,” pursued Colonel Haywood. “Now he’s makingmotions, cowboy fashion, and I don’t like the news he’s sending me. Itlooks like we’re up against it, good and hard.”

  “You mean he is telling you the pass has been blown up, sir?” asked Bob.

  “Seems as if that must be what he means; but wait till he gets here, andwe’ll know the worst,” concluded the rancher; his set jaws and flashingeyes telling how the desperate situation was arousing that old spirit of“never say die” which in times past had always marked his work, and beenthe means of his present success.

  The cowboy came hurrying along as fast as the uneven ground wouldpermit. Straight toward the little group he advanced—for Bart, theforeman, had again joined the others, eager, to hear the news the scoutwas bringing back.

  Frank knew before a word was spoken that Scotty had made a disagreeablediscovery, which would put them to great trouble so far as getting thestock out of the valley was concerned. Hence, he was nerved to hear badnews.

  “How about it, Scotty?” asked Colonel Haywood, as the other arrivedclose to where the others stood.

  “Couldn’t ’a been worse, sir,” replied the disgusted cowboy, shrugginghis broad shoulders.

  “Then the pass has been blown up, and filled with rubbish?” continuedthe other.

  “Filled so high that a month wouldn’t open it again to let even an OldBaldy climb over. We’re sure up agin it, Colonel, this time!” declaredScotty, scowling.