CHAPTER VI

  PRISONERS

  Rosemary and Floyd knew something of the west. They had lived inCalifornia a number of years, and had traveled across the continentmore than once--by auto on one occasion. So they were not at alldisappointed when they saw the Yaquis did not measure up to thepicturesque standard of Buffalo Bill's Indians.

  In fact the first glimpse of the onrushing band of Yaquis would giveone the impression that they were a lot of colored cowboys, in mostragged garments. But each one carried a gun or a revolver and theweapons were for use, and had been used, some with fatal effect.

  Shouting and yelling, some firing their guns off in the air, beatingcoiled lassos against the heaving sides of their steeds, spurring thefrantic animals, shouting in Spanish, all of them dusty, sweaty anddirty--the band was at once ridiculous and fearsome.

  Up the trail they rushed, adding to their fierce yells as they caughtsight of the auto in which sat Rosemary and Floyd. Probably the bandof Yaquis had started off after the cowboy messenger who was riding tosummon the United States troopers, and the finding of Rosemary andFloyd was but an accident.

  But it was an accident likely to bode ill for our friends. The Indians(I call them that though they were really Mexicans) having sighted whatwas to them fair game, were turned from their original purpose ofcapturing the messenger.

  Rosemary and Floyd caught a jumbled jargon of Spanish shouts, mingledwith Mexican and American words, and then out of the ruck of riders asolitary horseman spurred toward them.

  "He's the leader, I guess!" exclaimed Floyd, and Rosemary caught thegleam of his revolver in her brother's hand.

  "Floyd! Don't!" she cried.

  "Don't what?"

  "Don't shoot? Oh, we haven't a chance! If we do kill--or wound afew--it will only make it worse for us. Don't shoot!"

  Rosemary spoke only just in time, for Floyd was already raising theweapon to aim at the leader who had spurred out of the ruck of otheryelling Yaquis.

  And, as if this leader sensed what was about to happen, and had decidedto administer a lesson, there was a sharp crack from his side. He hadnot raised his hand higher than his saddle pommel, but Floyd's hat spunfrom his head and went sailing to the ground. At the same time heheard a vicious "zing" which told of a bullet in flight.

  "Floyd!" screamed Rosemary.

  "I'm all right! He's bluffing!" her brother answered. But he did notshoot back.

  This Yaqui, better dressed and mounted, but more evil in face than anyof his band, smiled grimly as he jammed his gun back into the holster.And Floyd had the sense to return his weapon. As Rosemary had said,there was grave danger in firing, for at best only a few of the Yaquiscould have been disposed of, and the others would have taken a terriblerevenge.

  Right up to the stalled car--stalled because it had lurched to one sidein the ditch--rode the yelling Yaquis. Some of them got in the path ofthe evident leader, but he bumped them to one side with his horse--amore powerful animal than any ridden by his followers--shouting at themin vigorous Spanish as he knocked them out of his way.

  "La Paz! La Paz!" is what Rosemary and Floyd heard shouted at theleader, and this they took to be his name, or, at least, his title.From then on they referred to him as "Paz," which was as good anappellation as any.

  Up to the auto he rode, at breakneck speed, pulling his horse to asliding stop, so that the animal almost sat down on its hind legs in aneffort to avoid crashing into the car. To the credit of Rosemary be itsaid that she did not scream, nor did Floyd flinch, though it seemed,for a moment, that there would be a crash.

  Then the Yaqui leader, with a grunt, and a wave of his begrimedhand--in which grime Rosemary noticed with a shudder, blood wasmingled--indicated that the travelers were to alight.

  "Nothing doing, Chief! That is if you are a chief!" boldly answeredFloyd. "We're United States citizens, on United States soil, and wedon't have to do what you tell us. Pull your freight--get your men outof the way and we'll mosey along. That is we will if I can get the carout of the ditch!"

  The Yaqui grinned, but did not take his eyes from Rosemary or Floyd,and muttered:

  "No _sabe_!"

  "Oh, you _understand_ all right--you don't want to, that's thetrouble," exclaimed Floyd. "Come now, be a sport. I don't know whatyour fight is with the men down there," and he motioned to the townbelow, where sounds of fighting could still be heard, "but we haven'tdone anything. If some of your men will help me get out of this ditchI'll pay 'em."

  Evidently "pay" was one word not only Paz, but some of his followers,understood, for there were grunts and eyes gleamed more brightly whilesome of the Indians started forward.

  Paz shot out a few words at his men, and those who had had theboldness, to move forward pulled back their ponies. Evidently he hadthem well in hand.

  Rapidly he uttered something in Spanish, at the same time again wavinghis hand to indicate to Floyd and Rosemary that they were to get out ofthe machine. Brother and sister knew enough of the language tounderstand what was said. It was the same request made in gestures.

  "Shall I jump on him, Rose?" asked Floyd in a low voice. "I can justabout make it from here, and I haven't forgotten my football tackledays. Shall I jump on him? Then maybe you can pop one or two, and wecan start down in the car. Once we get into town the officials arebound to protect us."

  "Don't, Floyd!" his sister advised in the same low tone. "We have nochance but to submit, and wait for help. I've heard of these Yaquis.There aren't enough men in La Nogalique to cope with them excepttroopers come. And they're far enough off."

  "Just give in, and hope for the best. But don't let them separateus--whatever--whatever you have to do."

  There was a catch in the girl's voice, but this was the only evidenceof fear she had shown. She was a true "sport."

  "But what do you suppose their game is?" asked Floyd, and during thistalk between brother and sister, the Yaqui leader, stood regarding themquizzically.

  "I don't know," Rosemary answered. "This is just one of theirperiodical raids, I guess, and they have just added us to their list.But we'll have to do as they tell us--at least for the time being.Help me down, Floyd."

  He assisted her out of the car. Paz, smiling--or perhaps grinningwould be the better word--came toward them, and motioned with his handtoward the gun Floyd had put up.

  "You don't get it,--Paz unless you want the business end!" snapped outFloyd, and his hand edged toward the weapon with no mistake in hismeaning.

  In an instant he was "covered" by the gun in the hand of the Indian,and Rosemary changed the scream she had started to utter to the advice:

  "Give it up, Floyd! They haven't seen mine and don't know I have one.Maybe I can get by with it!"

  Floyd almost sighed as he passed over his weapon, butt first, in theaccepted style of surrendering. Paz grinned again, and motioned to hismen to come up. One of them began loosening a lariat at his saddlehorn.

  "They're going to make prisoners of us," said Floyd.

  "Never mind! There'll be some way out," whispered Rosemary.