CHAPTER XXIII.
JACK MERRILL'S "SPECIAL."
The landscape swam by, the telegraph poles flashed past, as the flyinglocomotive gained headway. The ponderous compound jolted and swungalong over the rough tracks like a ship in a stormy sea. But thethrill of adventure, the buoyant sense of facing a big enterprise,rendered the lads oblivious to everything but the track ahead.
From time to time, Buck Bradley stopped his shoveling, and, holding bya hand-rail, leaned far out from the footplate, scanning the metalsthat stretched out in two parallel lines ahead.
"Be like them varmints to hev blown up a bridge, or spiked a track," hemuttered.
All eyes were now on the alert for the first sight of the red-brickstation--the only one on the line--which Bill Whiting had told themmarked the Esmeralda switch. As yet it had not come into view, butthey judged it must be around a curve which lay ahead, the far side ofwhich was hidden from them by a clump of woods. Suddenly, from thisclump emerged a figure, waving a red flag. He stopped in the middle ofthe track, waving his flag frantically.
"Shut down!" yelled Buck. "There's danger ahead!"
"Looks more like a trick, to me," growled the wary Coyote Pete.
"Can't afford to take chances," rejoined Buck. "How do we know what'sthe tother side of that curve?"
"That's so," agreed Pete; "them critters might hev planted a ton ofdynamite there, fer all we know."
The brakes ground down, and the panting locomotive came to a stopwithin a few feet of the man with the red flag. It could now be seenthat he was a small, dark Mexican, wearing a high-crowned hat.
"Why, I know that fellow, he----" began Ralph. But his recognition ofthe fellow, whom he had seen in Madero's camp, came too late.
From the woods ahead of them, a perfect hailstorm of bullets began tospit about the engine. Fortunately, none of the occupants of her cabwere struck, although the windows were splintered and the woodworkhoneycombed.
"Go ahead!" roared Buck.
"What if they've torn up the track?" gasped Ralph.
"Not likely. If they had, they wouldn't be bothering to shoot at us.Let her out. Ouch!"
A bullet whizzed past the burly showman's ear, and just nicked the tipof it.
With a roar of rage, like the bellowings of an angry bull, he leanedhis huge form out of the window and began pumping lead from hisrevolver into the woods. It is doubtful if his fire had any effect,but at that minute Ralph started the engine up again. A yell came fromthe Mexicans within the wood, as he did so. A hundred or more pouredout, firing as they came.
"Duck, everybody!" yelled Coyote Pete, as the storm broke.
A tempest of lead rattled about the engine, but, thanks to theprotection of the steel cab, not one of the crouching occupants washurt. Almost before they realized it, they had swung around the curve,and were safe. As Buck Bradley had surmised, no attempt had been madeto wreck the track beyond, the insurrectos having counted, seemingly,on stopping the dash for the Esmeralda by their ambush in the wood.
A tempest of lead rattled about the engine. Almostbefore they realised it, they had swung around the curve.]
"Consarn their yellow hides," grunted Pete, "that shows they kep'closer tabs on us then we knew. I reckon they was scared to follow usto Rosario, thinking, like we did, that the regulars was there. Waal,that was a neat little surprise party, but it didn't work."
Round the curve they tore, at a hair-raising gait, but the engine stuckto the metals. Ten minutes later a cheer went up, as the red-brickstation, which they knew must mark the Esmeralda switch, came in sight.
"I got the switch key from Whiting," cried Buck, as they reached theswitch, "I'll throw it."
He swung himself down from the cab, and ran rapidly ahead, down thetrack, to the switch lever. As he bent over it, from a clump of bushesnear by, there leaped a score or more of men.
"Buck! Buck!" yelled Coyote Pete.
The big fellow looked up just in time. The foremost of his attackerswas upon him as he threw the switch over. Buck picked him up, andfairly pitched the little Mexican over his head. The man fell in aheap at one side of the track.
"Come ahead!" bawled Buck, while the others hesitated and held back.
Ralph started the engine up, and it rolled toward the switch points.This seemed to wake the hesitating Mexicans to life. With a yell, theymade a concerted rush for Buck, but, as they did so, Ralph pulled thewhistlecord, and the locomotive emitted an ear-splitting screech. TheMexicans hastily jumped aside, to avoid being run down, while Buck madea leap to exactly the opposite side of the track. As the engine puffedby, he swung on. As he did so, however, one of the yellow men made aspring for the switch. It was his evident intention to throw it, whilethe engine was passing over it, and ditch them.
But, before he could carry out his intention, Jack, who had seen whatwas about to happen, had snatched up a hunk of coal. With all hisforce, he aimed it at the fellow, and struck him fair and square on thehead. The would-be train-wrecker toppled backward with a groan, justescaping the wheels of the engine. Before he gathered himself up andrealized what had hit him, the engine was roaring and puffing its wayup the grade to the Esmeralda.
"That shows us what we may expect at the mine," commented Jack. "Ihope they are still all right."
"Don't worry about that, boy," comforted Buck, noting his troubledface. "The fact that Madero had his men along the line shows that heanticipated our game--like the shrewd ruffian he is. It stands toreason he couldn't have his precious squadron, or column, or whateverhe calls it, in two places at once, so I guess we'll be in time yet."
"I hope so, I'm sure," breathed Jack. "If we failed now, it would bethe bitterest moment of my life."
But, as they came in sight of the tall stockade and the smokelesschimneys of the Esmeralda, they saw that their apprehensions weregroundless. No sign of life appeared about the mine buildings. Butpresently, in answer to a long blast on the whistle, a strange figurecame toddling out of the gate. It was that of Geisler. As he saw theengine, with its load of friendly faces, he broke into a cheer, and rantoward the track side.
"Hoch! Hoch! Hoch!" he yelled, waving his china-bowled pipe about hishead. "Diss iss der bestest thing I've seen since I had idt derCherman measles, alretty yet."
As the brakes ground down, and with a mighty exhalation of steam and asigh from the air-brakes, the locomotive came to a stop, Jack leapedfrom the cab and ran toward the German. To his astonishment, Geisleralmost recoiled as he drew near, and uttered a shout.
"Donner blitzen! I voss righdt den, idt vos a trap dot dose rascalslaid."
"What do you mean, Mr. Geisler? Where is my father?" gasped Jack, allin one breath.
"Himmel!" sputtered the German. "Oh, diss is an onloocky day, pychiminy. A young feller rode it to der mine, early to-day, undt toldyour fader dot you vos wounded, and----"
"My father went with this fellow?" demanded the boy, his eyes blazingwith eagerness and anxiety.
"Ches. He thought dot idt vos all righdt, und----"
"It's a trick of Madero's to rush the mine!" exclaimed Buck, who, withthe others, came up as the German was ejaculating the last words.
"Dot is vot I dink idt. Listen."
Forthwith the German launched into a detailed report of what hadoccurred, not omitting a full description of Harding, which wasinstantly recognized by the boys.
"Harding, the scoundrel!" exclaimed Jack.
"I'd like to get my hands on him for just five minutes," breathed Waltviciously.
Buck and the others, who were, of course, familiar with what hadoccurred to the boys with Madero's column, were also incensed.
"Such men should be hanged!" exclaimed the professor, with what was forhim, a remarkable display of emotion.
"Budt come," urged the German, as he concluded his narrative, "vee hadtbetter be getting inside der stockade."
He pointed down toward the miners' village, where men could be seenhastening about, as
if preparing to take action of some sort. Whatthat action was, they guessed too well. Acting in concert with Madero,they meant to storm the mine, and break open the specie room.
Ralph ran the locomotive upon a switch and locked the throwing lever.Then he followed the others through the gate of the stockade. As itclosed behind them, Geisler let fall a stout wooden bar into socketsprepared for it.
"I guess dot holdt dem for a viles," he said, as the bar clattered intoposition.
But Jack's thoughts were distracted, and his manner absorbed. His mindwas fixed upon Harding's rascality, and the probable dilemma in whichhis father now was. Buck Bradley noticed the boy's despondent air, andsought to cheer him up.
"Brace up, Jack," he roared in his hearty way, "your pop is all right.According to my way of thinking, those greasers just lured him awayfrom here, so that they could have easy access to the specie room.They knew that if he was on the ground, he'd blow up the wholeshooting-match before he'd let them get at the gold."
"Then you don't think they have harmed him, Mr. Bradley?"
"Not they, my lad," was the reassuring rejoinder, "they wouldn't dareto injure a prominent American like your dad. Why, our troops are allmassed at San Antone--for manoeuvers, the department says--but assurely as my name is Buck Bradley, the troops are there to see that thegreasers don't get too fresh. You see, Jack, Uncle Sam don't want tomix in other folks' troubles. He believes in playing in his own backyard, but when any one treads on your Uncle's toes, or injures one ofhis citizens--then, look out for high voltage shocks."
"You have relieved my mind a whole lot, Mr. Bradley," said Jackgratefully. "I guess it's as you say. Madero and his crowd wouldn'twant to run the risk of an American invasion."
"You can bet a stack of yaller chips on that, boy. But now, let'sfollow this Dutchman around and see what the lay of the ground is. Ifwe've got to put up a scrap--and I guess we have--it's a long move inthe right direction to have your surroundings sized up accurate. Bythe way, is this fellow Geisler all right?"
"My father thinks he is the most faithful and capable mining super inthe country," answered Jack warmly. "I guess he is, too. I only methim once before on a former visit to the mine, but he sort of inspiresme with confidence."
"Same here, Jack. I tell you the Dutch kin raise some Cain when theyget going, and that fellow looks to me like one of the right brand."
Thus talking, they came up with the others. Geisler was explainingvolubly his plan of defense. Buck Bradley interrupted him.
"What's the matter with boring some holes all around the stockade?" heasked. "We can fire from behind them if it's necessary, withoutexposing ourselves."
"Buck, that's a great idea," declared Pete, whose eyes were shining atthe thought of what he termed "some action." "Got a brace and bit,Geisler?"
"Sure. Ve-e haf a whole barrel of braces and bitters," was theresponse, as the corpulent Teuton hastened off to get the tools.
At the part of the stockade at which they now were standing a ladder,used in some repairing job, still leaned against the high, woodenfence. Coyote Pete, struck by a sudden idea, clambered up it, andgazed over the top of the defensive barricade. As his head topped thesummit, he gave a shout and rapidly ducked. At the same instant asound, like the hum of an angry bee, buzzed above their heads.
"A bullet!" gasped Buck Bradley.
"That's wot, pod'ner," rejoined Pete, "and it's the first of a wholeflock of such like. The country off to the southwest is jest alivewith insurrectos!"