THE RIVER MOTOR BOAT BOYS ON THE RIO GRANDE (continued 2)

“Come here, you mongrel cur!” shouted Case, at the same time making a rush for the canine. “What did you do with our clothes?”

Captain Joe wagged his quarter of a tail and said in his best dog talk that he would show them later.

“Where’s Alex?” asked Case, talking to the dog as if he had the gift of speech.

Captain Joe climbed up on his questioner, much to the latter’s annoyance, he being nearly naked, and made further demonstrations which said in plain dog talk that he knew what was being said, but considered it beneath his dignity to make reply.

“You’re a naughty dog, and you shan’t have a bit of supper,” threatened Case.

Captain Joe got down from his elevated position and walked with great dignity toward the fringe of trees which grew along the east shore of the stream.

“He wants us to follow him,” Clay declared, “but how are we going to do it? The wild men of Borneo have us beaten to a frazzle when it comes to clothes.”

“It seems as if we might get one good suit out of this mess,” Clay said. “Who’ll be the man to try?”

“It seems to me that we all ought to be getting a move on,” said Jule. “For all we know, Alex may be having all kinds of trouble. We appear to be children of fortune this trip! Everything comes our way—in a horn!”

It was finally agreed that Jule should remain at the Esmeralda, and that the others should follow the dog, who was still hanging around, in the hope that some of the boys might follow him.

When they reached the fringe of trees which stood along the shore of the river, Clay paused and doubled up with laughter.

Alex was in sight—up a tree.

There was a bear at the foot of the tree—a bear that evidently thought he had a cinch on the boy—a Colorado mountain bear, small but fierce. And Alex was playing a mouth organ with all the energy he possessed for the benefit of the bear!

The boys laughed until their sides ached before attempting any interference. Only for the fact that the wind was blowing from the east, while the place where the clothes had been deposited was to the west of that point, the noise of Alex’s shouting for assistance and the music of the organ might have been heard from the first.

The bear moved away sullenly, taking an extra swipe at a pair of Buck’s trousers as he did so. He had evidently scented the clothing during a temporary absence of Alex and began work on them.

“What you doing up that tree?” Clay called out, as he approached the spot, from which Alex was now descending. “We left you guarding the clothes.”

“He had to entertain the bear, didn’t he?” put in Case. “Bears just love music.”

“Where was your automatic?” asked Rube, breaking into another fit of laughter at the general appearance of the party.

Buck had succeeded in finding a vest and a pair of drawers, Rube was dressed in an undershirt and a pair of trousers, Clay wore a ruined sweater and a pair of trousers, while Case sported about in a coat and trousers and a soft felt hat.

“The bear made new business for the merchant,” laughed Clay. “How’s your money holding out, Rube? Big contract you took when you set out to supply this bunch with clothes!”

“Don’t you worry about the money,” Rube answered. “I’ve got a roll that would choke a cow yet.”

The man suddenly clapped his hand to his side with an anxious look and brought it away empty.

“Well, I’ll be—”

He never completed the sentence, but dashed off in the direction of the place where the clothes had been.

Alex had remained silent under all the chaffing to which he had been subjected. Now, however, with an exclamation of dismay he started away after Rube.

“What’s coming off?” asked Buck.

“Blessed if I know,” answered Clay.

“I’ll bet that Rube has lost his money!”

It was Clay who made the remark, and it served to set both boys and Buck in motion.

“This a fine trip, I don’t think!” grumbled Case, as they ran for the spot where the clothing had been left.

When the party gained the spot they had so recently left, neither Jule nor the Esmeralda was in sight!

“Where’s the boat, and where’s Jule?” demanded Buck. “We appear to be having the time of our lives!”

“Well,” said Clay, “the boat got away, not being anchored, and Jule set out to catch it. The time of our lives, well, I should say so! Did you find the roll. Rube?”

Rube, who was down on the ground turning over everything in sight, looked up with a comical grin on his face.

“Say,” he said, with a chuckle, “if we don’t find that roll, we’ve got someone to lay it to. Eh? We can charge it to the bear!”

“You may charge our present plight to me!” Alex said. “If I hadn’t laid my automatic aside for a minute, I might have killed the bear, and all these complications never would have happened.”

“It was to be!” observed Clay.

“You bet it was!” Case added.

“You just say that to make me feel better,” Alex replied, almost in tears. “I’m a blunderer, anyhow.”

“We wouldn’t know what to do without you!” responded Case, tapping the boy on the shoulder. “Now, brace up. Things have got to change for the better before long!”

At that instant they saw Jule walking dejectedly up the river.

“I don’t see any boat with him,” Case commented.

CHAPTER IX

THE RAMBLER HEARD FROM

“He’s got the motor boat in his pocket—perhaps!” Clay said, dejectedly. “We’ll have to walk back to Chicago, I take it! Well, we may as well laugh as cry, so here goes for the merry side of things. It might be worse, you know!”

“I fail to see how it could be much worse,” Case observed. “We are shy clothes and everything! Right now we look like a lot of monkeys dancing about in the forest!”

Jule was by this time within hailing distance, and Buck called out to him, asking where the boat was. For answer the boy pointed down the river.

“I knew it!” said Case, with a shiver.

“How did it happen?” asked Buck.

“It drifted away,” replied Jule, when he came within speaking distance, “but some men down the river caught it. It will be up here in a few minutes.” “Whoop-ee!” shouted Case.

“I’ve got a picture of our walk back to Chicago!” Clay exclaimed, dancing about in his ruined sweater and trousers. “Not yet—not for your Uncle Zeke!”

“Why didn’t you get into the boat and ride up?” asked Buck.

“There was no place to land,” was the reply. “There comes the boat now, with three men aboard of her.”

“I give it up,” declared Rube, rising to his feet. “At the present time if cows were selling for a cent apiece, the whole party couldn’t buy a piece of cheese an inch in size!”

“Don’t you be too sure about that!”

And Jule took the missing roll from a pocket in his shirt and presented it to the owner. The moment of blank amazement over, the boys placed the roll of money on the ground, and, joining hands, circled around it until they were all out of breath.

“I found it on the ground where the bear left it,” said the boy in explanation. “Wasn’t he a good, kind bear to leave anything at all?” he added, whimsically.

“How do you know there was any bear?” demanded Case. “The fix the clothes were in might have been the work of mischievous boys, for all you knew.”

“Not much,” Jule replied. “Boys wouldn’t have a nest in that hollow tree, would they? And boys wouldn’t be sliding down, and raking the bark off the tree, would they?”

“Then you knew just what we were to meet?” demanded Clay.

“I thought Alex had been caught without his automatic, and that the bear had chased him away,” answered Jule.

“That’s exactly what happened,” said Alex. “The bear came out of the tree and I had to run for it. When I got to the tree I found the bear close to my heels. I think he would have got me only for the mouth organ. How I did long for my automatic!”

“Why didn’t you run while the bear was attending to the clothing?” asked Rube, who was so glad to get his money back that his face wore a chronic and perpetual grin.

“To tell the truth,” replied Alex, with a sly smile, “I wasn’t here when the brute showed up! I was away on a little trip of my own. Now you have the whole story.”

“Well,” said Rube, “as we have to make another trip to the village, and it’s getting along toward the middle of the afternoon, perhaps we’d better be deciding who’s to go. We can’t all go in the rigs we have on, that’s a sure thing. The bear didn’t leave us too many clothes—not enough to hurt any.”

“I’ve got an idea!” suggested Alex. “It will save us a trip to town and, at the same time, expedite matters. What’s the matter with my going to the burg and buying for us all?”

“Well, if you’ll promise not to follow off any bears; that’s the ticket!” said Buck.

“The bears are likely to follow Alex off!” laughed Case.

The motor boat now dropped anchor in front of where the boys were standing, and the party was subjected to no end of “roasting” because of their disreputable appearance.

“Looks like the Garden of Eden!” roared the man who seemed to be in charge. “Where are your clothes?” he went on. “If I was the proprietor of that layout, I’d be looking around for a rag man!”

“The bear caught sight of our clothes first,” Clay answered. “Got time to take one of the boys back to the store?” he asked. “As you see, we are in need of clothes.”

“I should say so!” replied the other.

The story was soon told, and the men were off for the town in a hurry. For once, Alex did the job of buying the clothes as it should have been done, and was soon on his way back to the boys.

As he understood the motor thoroughly, it was not necessary for the boatmen to return with him. They left him with many expressions of good will, and many admonitions to give all members of the bear family a wide berth in future.

It was fortunate that the provisions purchased by Buck and Rube were intact, they having been hidden in a separate place.

The clothes fitted all the boys very well indeed, but Rube, owing to what Alex called “his length of beam,” was forced to don a suit about a foot too large for him and a foot too short.

“These clothes are all right, only they don’t fit!” said Rube, looking down at his protruding legs. “They fit me too quick the long way, and they are about the size of an elephant the short way.”

“You shouldn’t notice it!” volunteered Alex. “If this thing keeps on, you’ll be short in your bank account.”

“How much is there left in that roll?” asked Clay.

“Now, don’t you worry about the roll wasting away,” replied Rube, “for there’s more where that came from.”

“Glad to know it—we may want to make another touch!” was Alex’s reply. “We’re pretty deep in that roll now, if anybody should ask you,” he added, with a wink at Jule.

“Now, see here,” Rube responded, “don’t you ever think I take any chance whatever in losing this money. You boys haven’t said a word to me about how you are hooked up! We’ve been too busy for that. But don’t you ever suspect that I don’t know. You haven’t mentioned any names, except Clay, Alex, Case and Jule, but I read all about you and the Rambler in a Chicago newspaper, and the minute you referred to the Rambler I had you located.”

“It seems that we are getting notorious,” suggested Clay. “We can’t make a move that some newspaper don’t record.”

“Lucky for you that it is so,” Rube continued.

“Why is it lucky for us?” demanded Jule, interrupting.

“Well,” Rube went on, “when you picked up Paul Stegman last night in the rain, and began talking about the Rambler and Captain Joe, I had you sized up. So when Buck came down the river in his motor boat, I got aboard, thinking you kids might need a little lookin’ after. Now you’ve got the whole story.”

“And so, without knowing it, we had a bodyguard from the time we rescued Paul from the river?” Case interrupted. “It was mighty good of you both.”

“I wonder how Paul is faring?” Clay suggested.

“Oh, the boat thieves probably threw him overboard,” Case declared. “I’d like to wring their necks!”

“Now,” Rube said, “I’ve got a hunch that you boys are able to look out for yourselves, so I’ll ride as far as the Rambler and quit you there. I have a little work to do for myself. If you are as level-headed in future as you have shown yourselves to be in the past, you won’t need any watching.”

“How do you know we’ll catch the Rambler?” asked Jule.

“I’m just supposing a case,” replied Rube with a grin.

“You just bet we’ll catch her!” Alex contributed. “And when we get her next time, we’ll keep her. This chasing after boats all the time ain’t what it’s cracked up to be.”

It was late in the afternoon when the Esmeralda got under way, just as Clay had planned. A close watch was kept on both shores as the boat proceeded downstream.

Naturally, the Rambler would take the easiest course, which was downstream, but for this very reason the boys decided to search every foot of water until they came to it. As soon as it was dark enough, the thieves might seek to baffle pursuit by heading up the river.

At last darkness settled down on the water. Had the night been made to order it could not have served the purpose of the boys better. If the Rambler had crept into some hiding place along the stream her lights would show them where she lay.

In case her lights were not burning and her motors were not running it would be a difficult thing to locate the boat, and for this reason the Esmeralda was kept slowed down.

From the first Clay had not believed the story told by Rube. He might be interested in a ranch, and Clay did not doubt that he was, but that was not the reason for his appearance on the scene just at that time. The boy did not care to make himself disliked by prying too openly into the affairs of the others, yet he was positive that there was a hidden motive back of the one reason given.

Clay talked the matter over with the other boys, but could not reach a satisfactory conclusion.

“Perhaps he’s an officer,” suggested Jule.

“In that case,” replied Clay, “he would be apt to know some of the other officers.”

“From first to last,” answered Jule, “we haven’t met a single man who has shown any authority. I guess he’s just helping out for the fun he’s getting out of it.”

“And Buck? What about him?” asked Case.

“Give it up, boys,” cried Alex. “You’re all tangled up now, and the more you guess the more you’ll get tangled.”

The Esmeralda slipped downstream with no lights in sight. Whenever they came to a long stretch of river the motor was set in motion, but ordinarily it remained silent.

Of course the boys were unable to pick out the localities for speeding, they being strangers to that section of country, but here Buck and Rube proved very capable guides.

They knew the upper Rio Grande as the schoolboy knows his primer. In fact, knowing the stream so well, it was remarkable that they had never before landed at Hayes. But Hayes is a small place, and, besides, they had never had occasion to visit the burg.

At ten o’clock a slow rain began falling, and, the boat at the time being just around a point of land from a creek, Buck, who was in charge, shut off the power and permitted the craft to drift.

“Do you see anything that looks like a light?”

It was Rube who asked the question.

At that instant, almost before the words were off his lips, came a low whistle of warning.

“There they are!” said Case.

“Keep still,” admonished Clay.

The boat drifted on, past the mouth of the creek, and let an anchor drop silently into the water.

“I don’t know what we’ve struck, but we know that wasn’t no coyote’s call,” declared Case.

“It had a human sound,” interrupted Jule.

“Listen!” warned Buck. “We’ll hear it again in a moment. I thought I heard it then.”

“That was only rain,” explained Alex. “The first one might have been that, too.”

At that instant, before another word could be spoken, a great light flashed out, followed by a shrill scream.

CHAPTER X

A BIT OF DYNAMITE

“That’s Tommy!” whispered Jule.

“But the light? Who turned that on?” Alex whispered in reply to the suggestion.

“It doesn’t seem to be the thing to do—showing a light just at this time,” Clay commented.

“Well, what’s the next move?” asked Case. “Shall we board the boat? Or shall we wait for the next move of the robbers?”

“Give him some Peter Pratt,” suggested Clay. Rube and Buck, who had remained silent during this conversation, nearly jumped out of the motor boat when Jule opened up with:

“What are you doing in my boat? Get out, and get out quick, or I’ll knock your block off!”

“Who was that talking?” asked Rube.

The boys snickered.

“Sounds like he meant business, whoever it is!” suggested Buck. “Say, but he gave me a start!”

“You’ve got a heap of nerve, taking my boat without my consent! I think you’ve got a trimming coming!”

“Who’s doing all this talking?” demanded Rube. “It ain’t his boat, nohow.”

Before anyone could reply, a figure, strongly outlined against the light of the Rambler, rushed to the deck and crouched down behind the railing, from which position only his head could be seen, his body being concealed by the framework of the railing.

“What’s coming off here?” Jule’s voice went on. “If you don’t get away from that railing, I’ll shoot, and shoot to kill!”

Whoever the man was who had sought shelter behind the railing, he was game. He never moved, only the watchers could see the gleaming barrel of an automatic.

“Now if Tommy would only lip in,” Clay suggested, “we would have quite a menagerie. I wonder if that fellow we see is the only man aboard the Rambler?”

There was a fringe of bushes along the shore, and, clearly outlined against the light of the prow lamp, a figure could now be seen making his way through the shrubbery in the direction of the boat.

The watchers being in the shadows were not visible from the position occupied by the prowler.

“He’ll be aboard the boat in a minute if something ain’t done to stop him,” remarked Rube, “and then there’ll be a mix-up that will be worth the price of admission.”

The two men had evidently been completely deceived by the talk put up by Jule. They really believed that another claimant for the Rambler had put in his appearance.

“That talk you heard was made by Jule,” explained Case. “He thinks nothing of being two or three people at a time!”

“Not that talk in which the intruder was ordered off the boat, under penalty of having his block knocked off?” Buck answered.

Jule laughed softly.

“That’s the size of it,” he explained. “Made the fellow get a move on, eh?” he added.

“How do you do it?” asked Rube.

The question was never answered, for Tommy called for the attention of the entire company.

“Get off the boat!” he croaked. “Eat ’em alive! He eats ’em alive! Out of the way!”

“What’s that?” demanded Buck. “Sounds like the devil has come to town!”

The watchers could hear the man on the deck swearing under his breath, and could see the man prowling in the bushes advancing toward the Rambler.

“Now’s the time to get the Rambler back,” whispered Case. “I am positive there is only the person in sight on board.”

“But where have the others gone?” asked Buck. “There were six on board.”

“There is a man in the shrubbery,” said Rube. “Well,” Case said, getting to his feet, “who’s going to make the first break?”

“Look here,” Alex put in, “what’s the matter with the rear deck? I can get to that in a jiffy.”

“Seems to me that you have all the fun,” Jule expostulated. “Why don’t you give someone else a chance?”

But Captain Joe settled the matter of priority in his own way. He had been roaming about the deck of the Esmeralda like a lost spirit ever since the conversation had opened.

He evidently knew that he belonged on board the Rambler, and was peeved at the idea of being kept out of his rights. At any rate he sprang into the river and struck out for the shore.

In a moment all was confusion on board the Esmeralda. Knowing that the dog would be recognized as the canine which had made the attack on the robber at the bank of the river higher up, the boys all sprang to their feet and started pellmell for the railing of the boat. It was Rube who stopped them.

“Now see here, boys,” he expostulated, “you’ll only get cold lead in your systems if you make the attempt to board the Rambler now. The robber will see the dog coming and, doubtless, shoot at him. The dog will give him about one shot, then there’ll be a mix-up.

“The chances are about even the way I’ve got it figured out, but I’m betting on the dog. He has the speed and——”

Rube got no farther. The dog had by this time reached the boat and mounted to the deck, clearing the railing at one leap, aided by driftwood which gave him footing.

The attack was so sudden that the robber fired only one shot and that one an ineffectual one, and then the dog was upon him.

“Come on, boys!” shouted Alex.

“And the grit,” continued Rube, picking up the sentence, “and I’m bettin’ on the dog!”

There was no time to reach the Rambler by boat, so the boys plunged into the river and started to swim. But the man in the bushes had to be reckoned with.

No sooner were the boys in the river than he opened fire. In a moment, however, he turned his attention to the Esmeralda, which had been left unguarded.

Before the boys in the water saw what he was up to, he was climbing over the prow of the boat. Then it was too late, and, leaving his chum to his fate, the man in the boat started the motor and was soon around a bend in the river.

Buck gave a regretful look at the Esmeralda as she disappeared from sight, but kept on toward the Rambler. His regret was that someone had not been left on the boat, but that was now a past issue. The Esmeralda was gone, and would undoubtedly be annexed by the pirates who had captured the Rambler.

In the meantime, Captain Joe was having the time of his life with the robber, who happened to be the identical fellow the dog had sampled up the river. It being necessary to leave someone on board the boat, the fellow’s mates had chosen him as the one to remain, he being still suffering from the wounds made by the dog.

Alex was the first one to mount the deck of the Rambler, and the sight he saw sent him off in peals of laughter, in which he was soon joined by the other members of the party.

Tommy, the parrot, having been long parted from the dog, was standing erect on his back, talking all the words he knew, which were not a few. Teddy, the baby bear, was curled up a few feet away, sound asleep.

Alex’s first act on gaining the deck was to lift the robber’s revolver from the place where it had been thrown in the struggle and place it in a secure position on the prow.

Next he gave his attention to the robber, who by this time was hurling all kinds of oaths and imprecations at Captain Joe, who, by the way, paid not the slightest attention to what was being said.

The dog had taken the robber by the back of the neck, so his throat was in good working order, and he filled the atmosphere of the rainy night with such a collection of oaths as one seldom hears.

“Swear away if it makes you feel any better!” laughed Alex. “You certainly are a peach at it.”

“Call the dog off!” roared the prostrate man. “Wait till I get hold of him!”

“All right!” replied Alex. “I’ll wait as long as you like, but in the meantime you’ll be eaten up!”

“For the love of Mike, call him off!” cried the prostrate man. “He’s killing me!”

“That’s just the fate you deserve!” commented Buck. “One of your chums stole my boat.”

“And the whole crew will be on top of us if we don’t get a move on!” declared Case. “Let the man up, and let’s get out of this.”

The fallen man was assisted to his feet, and Alex rushed to the cabin to see what had become of Paul Stegman. Much to his surprise he found him there, alive and thriving.

“Hello, Paul!” the boy shouted. “You don’t appear to be much the worse for your association with the robbers!”

“Do you know what one of them did for me?” asked Paul. “Bet you never can guess!”

Alex gave a number of guesses and then gave it up.

“He set my leg!”

“What’s that?”

“Sure thing!”

Alex sat weakly down. This was too much to believe.

“Yes, sir! He set my broken leg!”

“He must have been a surgeon, wanting practice!” Alex said, with a wrinkling of the nose. “I’ve heard of such people before now.”

“No, sir,” insisted Paul, with a shrug of the shoulders, “he wasn’t any such thing. He was a regular surgeon, duly qualified, and all that. Yes, sir, he was a regular practitioner.”

“This thing is too good to keep!” exclaimed Alex, ducking out of the cabin door. “I’ll have to spread the glad tidings!”

When the boy got to the deck he found it in confusion. Captain Joe was occupying the center of the stage, with Tommy a close second. The parrot was talking and the dog was barking.

In the distance the Esmeralda was shoving her nose through the rain. The thieves, it seemed, were not satisfied to let the Rambler go in that way.

Her cabin lights were ablaze, and her deck was crowded with people. Her appearance at that point effectually blocked the entrance to the creek.

Tommy was doing his best to scold the intruder away, while Captain Joe was exerting himself to get away from Clay, who had him by the scruff of the neck.

“Giving a party?” asked Alex.

“Yes,” Buck replied, “and it’s likely to be a necktie party before it’s over. The Esmeralda looks right pert with all those people on board! I suppose we’ll have to wade in blood to get out of this hole they’ve got us into!”

“The Esmeralda is stopping,” said Case. “I wonder what’s next on their program?”

A hail now came from the boat.

“Hello!” the voice said.

“Hello yourself!” came the reply.

“What you doing with that boat?”

The answer was a baying of the dog and another scream from the parrot. The hailing party consulted together for a second and then called out:

“Guess you’ll have to submit to capture, boys.”

“You don’t see anything green, do you?” was Alex’s answer. “If you want us why don’t you come and take us?”

“We can do that, too, but we thought we’d give you a chance for your lives.”

“Never mind the chance,” Jule called back. “If you have nothing more to offer, perhaps you’ll get out of the way. We’re going to want the space you occupy in about a minute. We’ve got business down the river.”

“All right!” the robber answered. “Have it your own way, but you must not expect any favors from us if you keep up your impudent talk. We’ve had about enough of that already.”

“Go as far as you like,” was Jule’s reply.

“It beats the Old Scratch that we have to get into the clutches of river pirates wherever we go,” said Case. “One would suppose that some one of the rivers visited would be free of them.”

“Now,” said Clay, “suppose we give them a little fireworks. It will be just the thing for their systems, don’t you think?”

“Sure!” exclaimed Alex.

The boy ran into the cabin and returned almost immediately with several sticks of dynamite in his arms.

Buck and Rube did not wait for the stuff to be placed on the deck. They began climbing over the railing.

“Just you wait a second,” Rube began, “until I get out of this boat! I’m not ready, yet, to lead a procession to the cemetery! I prefer to live a spell longer.”

Again a hail came from the Esmeralda.

“We’ll give you five minutes to decide!”

“That’s about four minutes too much!” shouted Clay. “If you object to being blown to Kingdom Come, just lie still when we are passing through the opening.”

“Make ’em give up the Esmeralda!” said Buck.

CHAPTER XI

ALEX GOES FISHING

“Never thought of that!” Clay declared.

“Give ’em five minutes to vacate!”

It was Rube who made the suggestion. By this time both Buck and Rube had climbed back into the boat, and had gathered around the dynamite, though taking good care to keep near the boat’s rail, so they could leap overboard in case anything went off prematurely.

“I don’t like that stuff, nohow!” Rube declared, backing away, as Clay prepared to throw a stick. “Why don’t you give ’em a chance to leave the boat?” he added.

“I thought I’d give them a taste of the stuff first,” was the reply. “Not enough to hurt—just a little boat-rocker!”

“The five minutes are about up!” came a voice from the Esmeralda. “What is your decision?”

“Here it is!” shouted Clay.

He threw the dynamite as he spoke against a log that lay in the stream just under the bow of the Esmeralda.

The boat rocked viciously for some time. Clay waited for the motion to cease and threw again, coming a little nearer the hull of the Esmeralda this time.

“How do you like it?” Case queried.

The only reply was a shower of bullets, which bounded from the armor of the Rambler like so many grains of rice.

An effort was now made to back the boat out of the reach of Clay’s arm, but, the craft, having been run into the creek prow first, this could not be done without the person who attempted it coming within the range of the boy’s steady aim.

“If you try that,” warned Case, “the boat will be blown up! We have dynamite enough on hand to do the business.”

“The best way out of this scrape,” put in Alex, “is for you to stop shooting and also get out of the boat! If you don’t, the craft will be destroyed. Do you get that?”

“The first man who tries to get to the anchor-chain will regret it,” Clay put in. “That will be the signal for the blowing up of the Esmeralda.”

“The best thing you can do is to quickstep off the boat!” Buck suggested. “The lads have you too dead to skin.”

“And no shooting after you get ashore, mind,” added Rube.

Had there been a man in the crew with the nerve of either one of the boys, or of Rube or Buck, there would have been “doings,” but all feared the sticks of dynamite in Clay’s hands.

While the outlaws consulted together, not knowing what course to pursue, one of their number fired a shot at Clay.

The boy staggered and would have fallen had not Alex sprang forward and caught him. Blood was pouring in a stream from a wound in his arm, and he sat down behind the railing to catch his breath.

“Close call, that!” he said, with a faint smile.

Buck seized the dynamite, which had fallen to the deck, and hurled it across the water in the direction of the Esmeralda.

It struck the bow of the boat and shattered it to splinters. The next instant marked an exit from the boat.

The robbers fell over each other getting out. In a minute all were out, and the Esmeralda lay rocking in the river.

“Turn the motors on—quick!”

Clay was on his feet, with the blood still pouring from the bullet hole in his arm, making suggestions for the guidance of the others. It was well that he was quick to speak.

Before the motors could be brought to use, a storm of bullets was flying at the Rambler.

“Turn off the lights,” said Clay.

Then he fainted from loss of blood and the pain of the wound.

The command was obeyed, the Esmeralda was taken in tow, and the Rambler moved slowly into the stream.

As the Rambler drew up to the Esmeralda and passed her, Buck sprang aboard over the wrecked prow and switched off the lights. All was now in darkness, but the robbers continued to fire as long as the boats were in sight.

Half a mile down the river the lights were switched on again, and Clay’s wound examined. The boy was still unconscious, an artery having been severed.

While the examination was going on a hail was heard from the east shore, and the motor boat checked her speed.

“What’s wanted?” asked Buck.

“Want to come aboard,” was the reply.

“Are you alone?” was the next question. “Stand out where I can see you.”

The stranger moved to a position where the rays of light fell full upon him, revealing a slender man of twenty-five or under. He was neatly dressed in black, and wore a slouch hat.

“Why do you want to come on board?” Buck demanded.

“To get out of the rain,” was the answer. “My shoes are wet through, and I’m chilled to the bone.”

“Shall we take him aboard?” Buck asked.

“Sure thing!” said Rube, who was the only other person on the deck, the three boys being in attendance on Clay. “I reckon we can handle one man! Besides, the fellow really looks civilized. Anyhow, we’ll give him a chance to tell his story.”

“All right!” Buck shouted back. “We’ll give you a chance to dry out, but you’ll have to swim for it.”

“I fail to see how I could get any wetter than I am now!” answered the stranger, plunging into the river and striking out for the boat. “In fact, I think the river water an improvement over rain water.”

The stranger climbed up on deck and shook himself.

“When I had the honor to associate with the crew of the Rambler before,” the man began, but Buck seized him by the shoulder and ran him into the cabin.

“You look to me,” he declared, “like the man who recently did a job of surgery. ’Cause why? There ain’t been no other people on board the boat, except you and the river pirates and the boys.”

Paul struggled into a sitting posture and almost shouted out his recognition of the stranger.

“Just in time to save a life!” he said. “Clay must have bled to death in another hour!”

Without speaking a word, the surgeon stripped off his coat and set to work on the wounded boy. The men gathered about the lad held their breath while awaiting the surgeon’s verdict.

“A bad wound,” he finally said.

“Is it fatal?” asked Alex in a whisper.

“Not necessarily so,” was the answer. “If I only had a tourniquet,” he added, “the job would be an easy one, but the boy has lost considerable blood, and——”

Alex interrupted the surgeon by shouting that there was such an instrument in the medicine box, and dashing off to fetch it.

“I guess I’m getting dippy,” the boy said, as he laid the instrument down. “I knew that the tourniquet was in the medicine box. I’m sure getting balmy in the crumpet.”

This was slang of the worst kind, but the boys were too excited to remark it. The surgeon took the instrument and put it in position, remarking as he did so that the boy had already lost enough blood to run a mill.

“Can you bring him through now?” Jule asked eagerly.

“It is simply a question of good care,” was the reply.

The surgeon worked over the lad for a long time before he returned to consciousness. When at last he opened his eyes there was a smile in them.

He was still very faint, but he was very nervy.

“Where did you come from?” he asked the surgeon in a whisper.

The surgeon laughed.

“I came out of the rain!” was the reply.

“That’s Theodore Rand, formerly of the pirate craft Rambler,” said Paul. “He’s the quickest man at a broken leg I ever saw! I’m going to have him promoted. He’s going to be Chief Surgeon in the army before he dies!”

“Were you really aboard the Rambler before?” asked Case.

“Of course he was,” interrupted Paul. “Didn’t he set my broken leg? That’s some surgeon!”

“But I don’t see how you got away from the pirates,” Jule exclaimed. “They don’t let go when they get hold of a man like you. They cling to him like a puppy to a root!”

“Well,” said Theodore, known forever thereafter as “Thede,” “you see, the outlaws had need of my services. They had a man shot through the lungs, and I came along in my skiff just in time to be too late. They rewarded me by stealing my instruments and putting me off the boat just below the spot I set this boy’s leg.”

“Then you must have had a long walk in the rain,” Case remarked. “And you must be good and hungry.”

“I could eat a rhinoceros right now!” said the surgeon. “I have been waiting for an invitation to eat.”

Alex sprang to his feet.

“That makes me think that I haven’t had a square meal since I left the Rambler!” he exclaimed. “Now, if the river thieves haven’t cleaned out the refrigerator, I’ll get you a supper that’ll make you sit up and take notice!”

It was pretty poor picking in the refrigerator, but there was plenty of tinned goods, and the boys managed to get a very satisfying meal. Alex washed the dishes under protest!

“Where do you want to get off?” asked Case, as the Rambler, still with the Esmeralda in tow, headed toward the Gulf of Mexico.

“I’m going to any old point in the South,” was the answer. “You see,” explained the doctor, “I didn’t do very well at the town I set up my office in, so I took my instruments and started to walk to the next place.

“I was having rather a pleasant time of it when hailed from the Rambler. It seems that there had been a row on board, and that one of the gang had received a bullet through the lungs.

“Of course I did what I could for the man; but that was not much. He died just before I was put off the boat.”

“And was buried on the river bank,” explained Paul. “That must have been about dark.”

“It seems longer ago than that,” laughed the surgeon. “Anyway, it appears to me that I’ve been walking in the rain ever since the Deluge! Now I haven’t got any more tools to work with than a rabbit! And the scamps took what little money I had with me, too!”

“That is easily fixed,” said Rube, producing his roll. “Just have one of the boys go good for it, and tell me how much you want!”

“I’ll go good for $10,” declared Case. “The doctor has certainly earned that much.”

Rube peeled off a bank note and passed it over to the surgeon, who took it hesitatingly.

“But this is a $20,” he explained.

“That’s all right,” Rube announced. “You may pay me the other $10 when you get on your feet.” The surgeon expressed his thanks, and Rube put away his roll and asked Case to slow down so he could board the Esmeralda.

“You see, Buck,” he explained, “we’ve got to be getting a move on if we get the Esmeralda in shape again.”

“Tell you what,” Alex proposed, “suppose we have a fish breakfast. I just know there’s bullheads in this river.”

“Bullheads in the Rio Grande!” scoffed Jule.

“Just you wait!” replied the boy.

So Alex and Jule went over the Rambler’s side after fish.

CHAPTER XII

A QUEER PASSENGER

There was a faint flush of dawn in the east when the rowboat left the Rambler’s side and struck out into the river. The motor boat had been slowed down to the pace of the other, and the surgeon and Case watched the boys from the deck.

As the prow light was still burning, their view of the scene was exceptionally good. The rain had ceased, and the morning stars were shining. The day promised to be a fine one.

Clay was asleep when the rowboat was launched, so the two boys had nothing to worry over. They had every confidence in the surgeon, and believed in the ultimate recovery of their chum.

“It is a trifle light to fish for bullheads, but the burning of the prow light will make the fish think we have a torch especially for their benefit, so they may bite after all!”

It was Jule who emitted this bit of wisdom about fish thinking, and Alex laughed him to scorn.

“Fish can’t think,” he laughed. “They haven’t the machinery for thought in their make-up.”

“Much you know about fish!” Jule answered. “I’ve seen fish that would come to the surface when their master whistled! And there is a fish at Lincoln Park which——”

There is no knowing how much longer the fish story would have continued if just at that instant Alex had not seen his bobber, making little circles in the river.

“You’ve got a bite, Alex,” Case shouted from the deck of the Rambler. “Look out or he’ll pull you under!”

“Never you mind about his pulling me under!” Alex answered. “This is a pet fish, and he knows his business! When he gets done playing with the hook, he’ll come to the surface and give himself up, like a good little fish!”

But the fish did not come to the surface and give himself up as he was scheduled to do! Alex leaned too far over the edge of the boat and went down to meet the fish!

Jule doubled up with laughter, and Case gave advice from the deck of the Rambler.

“Dive under the fish and bring him to the surface when you are on your way up!” he shouted. “You don’t often get a chance to embrace a live fish!”

Alex paid no attention to this advice, but kept his hold on the line. He took time, however, to wrinkle a freckled nose at his tormentor. He seized the rowboat by the prow, and drew himself up.

“I always take a bath in the morning,” he said, “it’s good for the health.”

“Do you always employ a fish to pull you in?” asked Jule. “I should think you’d run shy of fish!” “See! He never got off the hook!” exclaimed Alex. “Didn’t I explain to you that this was a pet fish? I’ll have him giving a song and dance in a second.”

“I hope the song and dance will be given in the frying pan!” contributed Case, speaking from the deck of the Rambler. “I’m hungry enough to eat stones out of the river.”

“Just you wait a second and I’ll have this one simmering in the frying pan!” Alex said, getting a better hold on the line by winding it around his wrist. “Wonder what kind of fish this is? He’s a corker for weight, anyway.”

When the “fish” was at last brought to the surface it proved to be a long and vexatious snag!

“Hi!” laughed Case, from the Rambler’s deck, “how do you work it when you want to exercise that fish? Pet of yours, eh?”

Alex scratched his head and joined in the laugh.

“Anyway,” he declared, “if there’s a fish in the Rio Grande I’ll introduce him to you! We’ve got to have that fish breakfast!”

By this time Rube and Buck, having inspected the Esmeralda and discovered that the injury to the prow was not as serious as at first supposed, had joined the surgeon and Case on the deck of the Rambler. The two boats were now tied together, so that the prow of the Esmeralda ran flush with the aft deck of the Rambler.

“What’s that about a fish breakfast?” asked Buck.

“You just hold your horses for a couple of minutes, and you’ll see!” was Alex’s reply. “I’m so hungry, right now, that I’m turning black in the face.”

“How would you like to have a good, steady job driving a pie wagon?” questioned Case. “That might suit you as long as the pie held out! Of all the nice, good-looking, long-distance pie-destroyers you take the cake.”

For reply Alex wrinkled his nose and pointed to Captain Joe, who had left the deck of the Rambler for the river, and was now swimming round and round the rowboat.

“He’s taking his morning bath,” he said. “Go away, dog, don’t spoil my fishing,” he added, as Captain Joe attempted to get into the boat.

“Captain Joe!” called the parrot. “Good Captain Joe! Come to me, you cur dog!”

If the dog had any objections to being called a cur dog he said nothing on the subject, but continued to swim round and round the rowboat.

“What’s the matter with the dog?” Alex asked, moving over to a side of the boat where he could get a full view of the dog, “I wonder if he isn’t going crazy.”

He called to the dog, but he continued to swim round and round the boat.

“Well, of all the fool capers that I ever came across, you certainly are the whole biscuit! What do you see down there in the river, Captain Joe?”

The thing Joe saw took the form of a man. So far as the boys could see, he was rather neatly dressed in clothing which was wet with the wash of the river.

He was clinging to the side of the rowboat when first seen, but let go his hold and struck out for the shore. Evidently an expert in the water, he was halfway to the land before the occupants of either the Rambler or the rowboat recovered from their amazement and thought of stopping him.

Taking advantage of the darkness, the fellow had traveled for perhaps an hour, perhaps two, in the bottom of the rowboat. Then, when the boys had use for the boat, the only thing he could do was to take to the river.

They remembered that the rowboat had not been used since the robbers had been driven off with dynamite. The man might be a river pirate for all any member of the party knew.

The Rambler, being nearer to the swimmer than the other boat, at once turned her prow in his direction, but he reached shoal water before they overtook him, and disappeared in the thicket.

“Wouldn’t that frost you?” exclaimed Alex, bending over the edge of the boat and looking as if he expected to see more men where the swimmer had released his hold. “Say, but that man, whoever he is, can go some in the water!”

“I should say he could!” said Jule. “Where did he come from? Where did he go? If that act of his was a disappearing one, he certainly did it right!”

“I guess the Rambler obstructed our view,” explained Alex. “I’d like to know how long we’ve been carrying passengers, anyhow.”

The Rambler now returned from her fruitless quest of the stranger and anchored by the side of the rowboat.

“How long have you been leaking passengers?” Case demanded. “How many more have you got concealed in the boat?”

“Go ahead and get that fish!” said Rube, rubbing his stomach. “I feel like the Mammoth Cave!”

“Lock him up in a bakery, then, for I don’t think there’s any fish in the blooming river. If he’s hungry enough to chew buns, turn him loose on em!

It was Alex who gave this advice. For the next few minutes he busied himself making a closer examination of the boat.

“Look here,” he exclaimed, “who is there in this party that can read Greek? There’s a lot of queer writing on the rear end of the boat. I’d like to know what it means.”

All was excitement after this announcement, and Case and Buck climbed down into the rowboat.

The writing was in pencil, and was already half obliterated.

“Can you make anything of it?” asked Case, bending over the side of the boat.

“Not a thing,” was the reply. “I think it must be Hebrew! Anyway, it’s some sort of warning. Or it may be a threat.”

“Much you know about it!” laughed Case.

“What about that fish breakfast?” Rube called out from the motor boat. “I’m so hungry I could eat nails.”

“Well, I presume that means me,” Alex replied. “If I’ve got to catch a fish for breakfast, you’ve got to get out of this boat. How can I get a fish with all you people on board?”

“But we haven’t read the writing yet,” urged Jule.

“That can wait for a time. Rube will be crying his eyes out in a minute! Anyway, the writing will keep.”

“No, it won’t,” Buck cut in. “If you’re ever going to read it, it strikes me that now’s the time.”

“All right!” declared Alex, “if you want to delay the fish breakfast, give me a knife, and I’ll cut the letters out.”

“Better use a saw,” advised Buck.

“Happy thought!” said Alex. “But where’s your saw? Do you happen to have one in your pocket?”

Case clambered to the deck of the motor boat and soon returned with a saw from the tool-chest.

Buck took the tool and fell to work so vigorously that the rim of the boat, where the writing was, soon lay in his hand.

“Now you can order your fish breakfast as soon as you like,” he said, putting the piece of wood he had removed into a pocket ... “I suspect that Rube will be referring to it until he gets fed.”

“You bet he will!” came from the deck of the Rambler.

“Could you eat a piece of cherry pie?”

Jule asked the question, and was answered in a quick affirmative. Then he said he’d see about getting one when he got to El Paso!

“You’re a fraud!” laughed Rube. “I don’t want anything to eat, anyway.”

“No, you don’t!” Alex said, with a wrinkle in his nose. “I’ve got a photograph of you refusing food!”

Case and Buck soon left the rowboat for the deck of the Rambler, and Alex went ahead with his fishing, with such good success that a fine string was carried on board the Rambler.

“Now,” said the lad, “if you’ll get me some butter, I’ll see what I can do with these fishes! You put the ‘-es’ on when you want to put on style.”

“Look at this translation Paul made of the writing on the boat! He says it’s French.”

Buck came out on deck with a paper in his hand and handed it to Case. The boy took it and read:

“The meaning of ‘a l’outrance’ is to the death.”

“Who furnished the translation?” questioned Jule.

“Paul did,” was the reply.

“Can anyone give the meaning of the translation?” asked Case.

“Why, it means just what it says, ‘to the death,’” said Jule.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” asked Buck.

“It may be either,” was the answer.

CHAPTER XIII

ON THE MEXICAN SIDE

Alex’s fish breakfast was a culinary success, but over it hung the shadow of that threat. But was it a threat?

The boys discussed it from every possible angle only to come back to the original question:

Was it a threat or a promise?

“Well, he’ll have a fine time catching the Rambler,” said Case. “He’s got to go some if he does. And he’ll need an aeroplane in order to do it.”

“He may have an aeroplane secreted in his pocket,” Jule said.

However, two days passed and they heard nothing of either the river thieves or the stranger. When El Paso was reached Buck and Rube prepared for departure.

“You boys started out with accommodations for four,” said Buck, “and you’ve kept collecting about every person you came across until you’ve doubled the crew.”

“I can’t see what we should have done without you three men,” Case answered. “In the first place, we never could have got through without Rube’s roll! He was perfectly willing that it should be used, and we accommodated him.”

“Then what should we have done without Thede? There’s a man that knows how to set a leg or bind up an artery! We certainly couldn’t have left him out. I think, when you come to size the whole thing up, we carried just enough people to do what had to be done. How does that strike you, Alex?”

“Right you are,” answered the boy addressed. “We haven’t been a bit crowded, and we’ve had plenty to eat. I wish Rube and Buck were going on with us.”

“I’d eat you out of house and home,” laughed Rube. “I presume you boys noticed that I have quite an appetite.”

“Just about the size of mine!” said Alex.

El Paso was the scene of great activity a year ago, when the Rio Grande was the dividing line between the United States and Mexico. Streets were crowded with men in uniform, and restaurants and saloons contributed their full quota to the general confusion.

The city, however, was quieter now, and the boys had no difficulty in finding their way about. Troops still guarded the Mexican line, but they were inconspicuous.

Clay had, in a measure, recovered, though he was still weak. He was able to sit on deck and watch the moving panorama which is to be seen in all frontier cities.

The first trip taken by Case and Alex was to the bank, where they found the money waiting for them. As the telegram had instructed the cashier to pay the money over “without identification, at the risk of the remitter,” the boys had no difficulty whatever in securing it. They paid Rube in full, and insisted on his taking an extra $20, for being “a good fellow in the time of trouble.”

The Esmeralda’s prow had been repaired on the way down, and she was now in perfect condition. The boys saw her disappear around a bend in the river with sincere regret.

They had been friends in need, and “a friend in need is a friend indeed,” as the old saying runs. But they had not seen the last of either one of them.

Thede, the surgeon, decided, at the earnest solicitation of the boys, to remain on board the motor boat. Clay was still in a feeble condition, and Paul’s broken leg needed constant care, so it was decided that the doctor should remain on board.

Captain Joe, the parrot, and even Teddy Junior, the bear cub, seemed to extend a welcoming paw and claw to the doctor and Paul. Provisions for the remainder of the trip were laid in at El Paso, and on the second day the Rambler, as trim a boat as ever plowed the waters of the Rio Grande, lifted her anchor and sailed away.

Those were glorious days for the Rambler crew. The time was late in May, and at that season Nature is at her best in the South.

The boys fished and loafed about the deck of the motor boat until Clay was almost well again, and Paul insisted on being taken to the deck to watch the life on the river.

They heard no more of the river thieves, and everything moved along as placidly as if they had never interfered with the current of their lives. But this was only for a time.

One brilliant night when the Rambler was given just sufficient motion to give steerage way, when Alex and Jule were on watch, the former asked, abruptly:

“Was it a threat or a promise?”

“I’ve been thinking the matter over,” was the answer, “and I find there is not a thing the river robbers had to give or offer. So we may as well cut out the promise part. On the other hand, we know pretty well what the devils would do to us if we again came into their power.

“Therefore,” he continued, “we don’t welcome a meeting. Still, if it comes, I don’t think we’ll dodge. That wouldn’t be good form, would it now?”

“No,” replied Alex, “I don’t think it would. But we ought to do everything in our power to avoid a collision with them. Some day, if we don’t watch out, we’ll get the worst of it. We can’t expect to win out in every encounter.”

“Right you are!” declared Jule.

“I wonder how those Greasers, over there, live?” asked Alex. “Dirty and greasy as ever, I presume?”

“You bet!” answered Jule.

“Some day when we are not on watch, and the boat is lying at anchor. I’ll stump you to go and see,” continued Alex. “Some of the sights in a Mexican town must be worth seeing.”

“You’re on!” answered Jule.

“I have the meaning of that French writing,” decided Alex, after a long pause. “It is this: ‘Wait until I catch you!’ How’s that for a free translation?”

“It’s free enough,” laughed Jule. “Only I don’t see how we can wait, as the river insists on bearing us along on its noble and rather muddy bosom.”

“I’ve got a hunch,” said Alex soberly, “that the next time we run afoul of the river thieves it won’t be so easy to get away. In other words, I’ve got a premonition of approaching danger.”

“Nonsense!” Jule exclaimed. “You’ve got a case of indigestion, if anybody should ask you! I thought at the time that you were making rather free with that potato salad.”

“Oh, all right! Make fun of the hunch if you want to, but it is a really, truly, warranted-not-to-shrink-or-fade-in-the-washing hunch. Just you mark that down and keep for future reference.”

Captain Joe now came out to Alex and stood rubbing his nose against the boy’s hand.

“Look here!” the dog appeared to be trying to say, “if you’ve got anything important coming off, produce it. I have a few hours which are hanging rather heavily on my hands.”

“Want to go to shore, Captain Joe?” Alex asked.

The dog said that he did as plainly as ever a dog said anything and Alex got to his feet with a yawn.

He whistled about the deck for a time with hands in pockets, as if about to say something which he was positive would not meet with the sanction of his chum. At last, however, he found words for it.

“I suppose I’ll have to go and give the dog a run on the bank. That seems to be about the only way I can keep him quiet.”

“No, you don’t!” laughed Jule. “If you get ashore that will be the last of you until someone comes and looks you up. The last time you got away——”

Alex, followed by the dog, sprang to the rail and leaped into the river. Pausing only long enough to turn a laughing face toward his chum, very much wrinkled as to nose, the boy, closely followed by the dog, struck out for the Mexican shore.

“I’ve a good mind to jump in after you!” Jule called out. “You have all the fun!”

“Come on in!” Alex called back. “The water’s fine! I’ll just give Captain Joe a run on shore and come right back.”

Jule hesitated only an instant. What boy can resist a night in May, when the moon shines, and the waves make music on the beach? It is a shame to tempt a boy with a stream of water which ripples and murmurs on such a night.

Jule was tempted—and fell.

The Rio Grande is quite wide at the point where the boys entered the water, and the Rambler was about in the center of the stream, making the swim a long one. The lads, however, struck out bravely and soon landed on a swampy tongue of land which formed a peninsula at that point.

“Say, but this is great!” cried Alex. “I wish Case was here to enjoy it with us.”

Captain Joe seemed to think his frolic in the moonlight about the correct thing. He dived under the surface and pretended to catch the boys by their legs; he brought chips and driftwood from the stream and invited the boys to play tag with him.

At last he lay down on a bit of grass, signifying that his play spell was over, and that he would like to return to the boat.

But there was no boat in sight.

Then, and not until then, did the boys recollect that the boat was in motion—under steerway motion, it is true, but even steerway motion will sometimes carry a boat a long way, especially when the boys who should be guarding it are giving their attention to something else.

“The boys will wake up and come back after us,” said Jule.

“Of course they will,” agreed Alex.

Alex and Jule waited a long time, but there were no signs of the boat coming back after them.

“If we remain right where we landed,” Jule finally said, “they will be certain to find us.”

“That would be all right if they knew where we landed, but they don’t. The thing for them to do is to look along the shore until they see us. What a fool trick that was, leaving the boat unguarded. Unless someone on board wakes up, they may sail half the forenoon. I feel like giving myself a swift kick.”

“I reckon you don’t feel that way more than I do,” replied Jule. “I suppose the boys will think we have deserted them.”

“Or that we have been lured from the boat and murdered,” added Alex. “What’s the matter with you now, Captain Joe? What have you found in the bushes?”

The thing which showed in the bushes where the dog was looking was the pointed hat of a Mexican.

“Look there!” Alex said, not in the least alarmed, but with the notion that in some way the man could assist.

The next moment a gun was leveled at the two boys and a voice said in excellent English:

“Throw up your hands!”

As the boys were without weapons, the command was instantly obeyed. Then four rough-looking men came out of the thicket in single file and stood in front of the astonished boys.

“What is the meaning of this?” Alex demanded. “Is it a hold-up? If it is, we haven’t got a cent.”

Daylight was coming now and the moon was sinking in the West. The faces of the four men were in the shadow, but still it was plain to be seen that they were not out for a morning stroll.

The man who appeared to be the leader of the party gave a significant motion and instantly both boys were turned bottom side up while their pockets were being examined.

CHAPTER XIV

A SERIOUS SITUATION

It was six o’clock when Case awoke that morning. He was dressing when he discovered that the boat was not running.

He listened but could hear neither voices nor footsteps on the deck. The other boys were still sleeping soundly, and he did not awaken them. Thede, the surgeon, was stirring, and the boy asked him:

“What’s the matter with the boat?”

“I hadn’t noticed anything the matter with her,” was the surgeon’s reply.

“She has stopped,” explained Case.

“Then we’d better see what’s up,” responded Thede.

The two finished dressing and went out on deck. Then they saw what was wrong. The Rambler, with no one to guide her, had kept on a straight course until she had reached a bend in the river, and had then tried to climb out on the bank.

How the boys slept through all that followed was a mystery.

The chain which connected the motor with the rudder was broken and the boat had stopped when the power went astray. There were numerous other things the matter with the boat—enough to keep her in the repairer’s hands for a full day.

Case stood looking at the broken rudder for some minutes before he made the discovery that the surgeon and himself were the only persons on the deck.

Then he whistled for the dog, but no Captain Joe came at his call. He took a seat on the railing of the boat with a look on his face which told as plainly as words could have done how disgusted he was. He was not at a loss to account for the condition in which he found things.

“The boys have left the boat, taking the dog with them,” he said. “But what I want to know is why they didn’t come back.”

“They left the Rambler when she was in motion,” said Thede, “and there is a mystery about it which can be explained only by the boys themselves. You can see for yourself that the rudder was never broken except by accident—by collision with the bank.”

“It seems that way to me,” answered Case. “Now the question is, what has become of them?”

“And that is a question that I give up,” answered the surgeon. “You see, we don’t know where to look,” he continued. “We slept soundly all night, and the boys may have left the Rambler as early as midnight, for all we know.”

That was a serious time for what remained of the Rambler crew. The uncertainty of the situation was baffling.

Clay and Paul were soon awake, and the former walked out on deck to discuss the best means for finding the truants.

“If we only knew what time they left the boat,” Clay said, “we could start in on the search with more confidence in the ultimate result. But that is just what we don’t know,” he added, with a discouraged look on his pale face.

“If I knew that the young scamps were safe and sound,” Clay continued, “I should be in favor of leaving them alone for a couple of days. We’ve got to draw the line somewhere, and I think it should be drawn at the desertion of a boat in midstream.”

“I’m in favor of that,” Case said, eagerly, “but perhaps we should learn what excuse they have for their strange conduct before deciding what course to pursue.”

“The first thing to do is to find them,” said the surgeon.

“Correct!” said both Clay and Case in a breath. “The first thing is to find them.”

The Rambler was beached on the American side of the river, and very soon a delegation of loafers and waterside characters gathered around. Suggestions were offered in plenty, but none were to the point.

The loungers were principally Mexicans, black-eyed and swarthy of skin. They were clad in nondescript garments of all sorts, and they gazed longingly at the trim little motor boat.

They talked fair English and were profuse in their offers of assistance, but their covert glances at the Rambler were not to be mistaken. Their eyes lit up with greed whenever they fell upon it.

“Where can we secure boats in which to cross to the other side of the river?” asked Case, reluctant to use the rowboat belonging to the Rambler, and realizing that the boys would be without the means of transportation if they had crossed to the opposite side.

If they had landed on the American side, a searching party would be effective.

The man questioned pointed to a rude rowboat lying on the bank of the river not far away.

“Will that serve your purpose?” he asked.

“Will it float?” asked Case, in doubt as to the buoyancy of the craft.

“Like a bird in the air,” answered the fellow. “But the motor boat? Do you leave it? It will be perfectly safe. We are all honest men, Señor.”

“Oh, of course,” answered Case, noting with disgust the greedy glance the fellow cast toward the motor boat. “No one doubts that you are all honest men. However, we have to leave two men on the spot, and they may as well guard the boat.”

The fellow gave a quick glance at Clay, who was still on deck, as if estimating the amount of resistance he could offer in case the boat should be taken, and smiled.

“Oh, yes, Señor, we are all honest men,” the man continued, with a leer. “You may leave the motor boat here with the assurance that you will find it upon your return.”

“How much for the use of the boat?” asked Thede.

“A trifle,” said the other. “Perhaps twenty dollars.”

“It is not worth it,” replied Case, in a tone of disgust. “I will pay you five, though that is more than the old tub is worth.”

The boat was indeed a “tub.” The sides were broken and it leaked badly. The owner, however, insisted on the price named and would not consider a smaller sum.

At last, tired of the seemingly endless bickering, and anxious to be away, Case consented to the terms and the rowboat was brought to the side of the Rambler.

Case took Clay into the cabin of the Rambler and warned him to be on his guard.

“We may be away three or four hours,” he said, “and you must, under no circumstances, leave the boat for a minute. My opinion of these men is not a favorable one. I think they want the motor boat. Don’t shoot unless you have to, but shoot to kill if that should be necessary. A shot fired in defense of property is lawful.”

“All right,” Clay replied. “I hate like the dickens to have you go, but I suppose there is no help for it. Hurry back and we’ll repair the Rambler and get out of this rotten hole so quick that it will set the heads of the natives swimming.”

“Right you are,” responded Case, and with an additional word of warning the leaky boat was pushed into the river.

After the departure of Case and the surgeon the boys sought the cabin of the Rambler. They had no idea how long the boat would be gone, so they decided to make themselves as comfortable as circumstances permitted.

The half-breeds gathered in a group on the bank of the Rio Grande and consulted together for a long time. The conversation was still in Mexican, and of course the boys, being ignorant of the language, could not understand a word of it.

As a matter of fact, the tongue spoken was a mixture of Mexican Indian and Spanish, an especially hard combination.

“I wish I had the use of my arm for about five minutes,” Clay moaned, “I’d make a scattering up there on the river bank.”

“And if I had the use of my leg for the same length of time, there’d be doings,” observed Paul.

“Well, we are poor old cripples,” Clay went on, “and can’t help ourselves. One thing we can do, though, we can shoot the tar out of anyone who attacks us. That’s one consolation.”

There was silence for a time, each boy being occupied with his own thoughts. Clay was first to speak.

“What is your notion about the disappearance of Alex and Jule—mysterious, eh?”

“Decidedly so,” was the reply.

“Still,” Clay continued, “the fact that Captain Joe went with them gives the affair the appearance of an excursion to the shore. If they left the boat, clothed as they were, intending to be absent only a few minutes, the boat, being under steerway, might be too swift for them and get beyond their reach before they realized what was going on. Anyway, it is a bad mix-up, and I wish we were safely out of it. Now, what’s that?”

“That” was a movement of the mob on shore. They were headed for the river bank and looked dangerous.

“Here’s where the automatics come into play,” Paul suggested. “I can shoot, if I can’t walk.”

But right here a new factor entered the case. “Tommy,” the parrot, opening the conversation.

“Seven men on a dead man’s chest! Ho! Ho! Ho! And a bottle of rum!”

The parrot, wandering from perch to table, from locker to window ledge, lifted up his voice in an uncanny jumble of words until the cabin rang again.

The voice was hoarse yet shrill, and the Mexicans paused in wonder and amazement. They, of course, were unaware of the existence of the parrot, and the voice came to them as a distinct shock.

They paused and retreated a few steps and listened. The voice of the bird went on, hoarser and lifted higher than before.

“Ho, ho, and a bottle of rum!”

The Mexicans turned and fled, almost falling over each other in their eagerness to put as much space as possible between themselves and whatever it was that was making the talk.

At what seemed a safe distance they paused and gathered in a group for the comparing of impressions regarding the voice which all had heard. Some declared it to be the devil, and some said that there was a man who had not been seen concealed in the cabin.

While the arguments were going on the boys were not idle. The revolvers and guns were placed where they could easily be reached, and ammunition belts were buckled on.

The river pirates had not disturbed the arms while they were in possession of the Rambler, so the weapons, which they intended to appropriate later on, had not been molested.

“They seem to be losing their courage!” Paul exclaimed. “It is a good thing! If they come an inch nearer, they’ll receive the contents of this automatic.”

“They will soon be here,” Clay reasoned. “When they discover that it is only a bird they are running away from, they will rush the boat. You will have to shoot fast then!”

“All right!” was Paul’s reply. “I’ll shoot fast, and shoot to kill. I think they are getting ready to charge the boat right now! Shall we go to the deck and get behind the bullet-proof railing?”

CHAPTER XV

DEAD IN THE FOREST

When Alex and Jule were seized they naturally put up a hard fight, but the men who had attacked them were muscular, and, besides, had the advantage of taking the lads by surprise, so they were compelled to submit to the indignity of being searched.

After they came to their feet again, and after their heads had stopped whirling, Alex’s first motion was toward his pistol pocket. Then he remembered that the automatic had been left on board the Rambler. They were absolutely without weapons of any kind.

The outlaw saw the motion and smiled grimly.

“So,” he said, “you carried weapons. Some fancy little toy, I presume. What would you say to a weapon like this?”

As he spoke he displayed a revolver of enormous size. It was, however, patterned after an old model, and not at all similar to the improved automatics carried by the boys.

Alex, however, pretended great admiration for the gun and asked the privilege of taking it into his hands.

“I’d like to have one like it,” he declared. “How much do they cost?”

All this, of course, to draw the attention of the outlaws away from Jule, who was getting ready to spring Peter Pratt.

“What does this mean?” asked Jule, in as hoarse a voice as he was able to assume.

The outlaws, who had seated themselves on the turf, instantly sprang to their feet.

“Throw up your hands!” went on the voice.

But, instead of obeying this command, the men dropped to the earth again and prepared to fight. The attempt was a failure.

The boys, however, were on their feet, and the instant the outlaws crouched down they were off, being closely followed by the bulldog, who had all along looked with disfavor upon the proceedings. Captain Joe hesitated for a second, looking longingly at the exposed leg of one of the outlaws and then sprang forward.

In a minute the outlaw was on his feet, thundering great oaths at the dog, and doing his best to release his leg from the teeth of the animal. His efforts proved ineffectual, serving only to throw him to the ground again, where he lay foaming with rage.

“Call off the dog!” he shouted, writhing about on the turf in agony. “He is killing me!”

Hour after hour Jule had spent teaching the dog to obey his Peter Pratt, and now it came into play.

“Let go, you cur!” he cried. “Don’t kill the man! Let go, or I’ll have your hide for a foot rug!”

By this time the outlaws, regardless of their companion’s oaths and cries for help, were crouching lower in the bushes, mindful only of that first command to “throw up your hands!”

Captain Joe, in obedience to the command, released his hold on the outlaw and started after the boys. No sooner was the man released from the jaws of the dog than he drew a weapon and fired, the bullet cutting a long furrow in the dog’s side.

“I wish I had a gun with me,” said Alex in a rage. “I’d teach that robber better manners!”

“Come here, Joe!” Jule exclaimed. “I don’t think he is seriously hurt,” he added, as Joe came limping to his side.

“Find out as quick as you can,” advised Alex, “while I see that the men in front keep in the underbrush. They won’t hold the position long.”

As the man who had ordered them to throw up their hands did not appear, the outlaws were already growing suspicious. They cast inquiring glances at each other and moved about restlessly.

In the meantime Jule was making as close an examination of the dog’s wound as it was possible to make under the circumstances.

“There’s an ugly cut in his side, but that will soon heal,” he reported. “The thing to do now is to get away from here—quick! We are without weapons, and the outlaws will soon begin to smell a rat. They are getting suspicious already, and the fellow Joe bit is prowling about with blood in his eye.”

Owing to the underbrush which obstructed the view, the fellow could not locate the boys for a moment, but he was soon on the trail, vowing vengeance at every bound. Of course the boys took to their heels, but the blood from the dog’s side furnished a clew which was not to be mistaken.

“Something must be done or the man will catch us!” Alex panted. “Suppose you try Peter Pratt again?”

“Nothing doing!” Jule answered. “Do you want the other outlaws to know that they have been tricked?”

“That’s a fact,” replied Alex. “They would know that the man had shifted his position, even if they did not suspect trickery. But something must be done and done quick! Poor old Captain Joe is nearly all in.”

Although the lads were running at a swift pace, they were still hampered by the dog, who appeared to be growing weaker with every leap he took. The footfalls behind came on regularly and swiftly.

“Go on ahead with the dog,” Alex whispered at last. “I’ll stop that fellow! Judging from the way he acts, he is running blindly, and it ought to be easy to trip him. He’ll see the trail of blood and follow that.”

Without waiting for Jule to give his consent to this plan, Alex dropped down in the shrubbery. The outlaw came forward on a run, passing the boy without a knowledge of his presence there, which was not at all to the liking of the lad.

The boy had planned to trip the fellow as he went by.

The next best thing was to take after the fellow, and so divert his attention away from the wounded dog. Captain Joe must be saved in spite of everything!

The other outlaws, becoming suspicious that they had been tricked, were now on their feet, running toward the point which was the goal of Alex, the fourth outlaw and the dog.

It looked pretty serious for Alex, situated as he was between the three men at the rear and the one man in front. For a moment he trailed the man ahead, not knowing what course to pursue.

Then a plan came to him—a plan which might result in placing weapons in the hands of Jule and himself. It was a desperate chance to take, but it appeared to be the only one worth considering at the time.

He slackened his pace so as to permit the three in the rear to approach, and then dropped into the underbrush. The men came on at good speed and were promptly tripped.

They were running almost breast and breast, so they fell in a heap. Before they could get to their feet again Alex had the huge revolver out of the pocket of the leader and had the three covered.

“That’s right! Hands up! That’s the game you made us play a short time ago!”

Alex could hardly conceal a grin of triumph as the outlaws hastened to obey the command.

“Take the weapons from your pockets and throw them on the ground!” was the next order.

“Oh, see here, kid, isn’t this going too far?” said the leader, with a smile. “We were only joking with you.”

“That’s all right,” was the reply. “But, you see, I’m not joking with you. Throw the weapons down!”

The words were spoken so peremptorily that the outlaws lost no time in complying, and the weapons clattered to the ground together. Alex at once took possession of them.

In the meantime Jule was making as good time as was possible, hampered, as he was, by the dog, who insisted on stopping every few rods to note the progress made by his pursuer. The fight was not yet all out of the dog.

At last he stopped abruptly and refused to budge. While Jule was doing his best to force him along the sound of pursuing footsteps ceased. The boy listened intently, but could hear nothing of either Alex or the men he believed to be in pursuit.

“What’s coming off now?” he mused. “If this is a trick, I’m in bad, being without weapons and with this confounded dog on my hands. Captain Joe, why can’t you behave yourself?”

Captain Joe gave an extra tug at the collar and broke away, disappearing almost immediately in the thick underbrush, with Jule in hot pursuit and a trail of blood showing where the dog had gone.

The dog was out of sight in a second, but the trail of blood, instead of leading directly to the rear, wound off to the right. The trail was growing fainter every minute, which demonstrated that the wound was closing, or that it was becoming filled with clots.

While Jule hesitated about following on after the dog, thinking that he had gone crazy, the sound of a revolver came to his ears, and the pursuit was taken up again.

The lad reached an opening in the shrubbery just in time to see the dog and the outlaw in what seemed to be a death struggle. The man had evidently fired one shot at the dog and been too late to fire again. He had been seized by the dog and thrown to the ground.

His revolver lay by his side, just beyond his reach. The fellow was already in the agonies of death.

Jule sprang forward, but it was too late. The blood which was scattered liberally over the rank grass told him that. The dog had severed the jugular vein.

“I don’t blame you, Captain Joe,” the boy said, kneeling by the side of the fast-failing outlaw, “not a little bit! He shot you while you were running away from him, and you got even in the only way you knew; still, I wish you had let him live.”

There came a gurgle of blood at the throat, the wounded man struggled for a second for breath, and all was over.

Jule laid the head of the man back reverently. Whatever he had been in life, death had canceled. The record was of his own making and must be judged by One wiser than the combined wisdom of earth.

Captain Joe, to tell the truth, did not appear in the last downcast by the manner in which the incident had terminated, for he frisked about the boy as if expecting to be praised for what he had done. Seeing that words of commendation were not likely to be forthcoming, he darted away down the river.

Jule followed on behind, leaving the dead outlaw to be cared for later on. He reached an opening in the tangle of underbrush just in time to witness Alex’s capture of the three outlaws.

When he approached the spot where Alex stood the lad was facing the three men about.

“What’s doing?” he asked. “Likely pair and a half you have there! How did you manage it—the capture, I mean?”

“They just came and gave themselves up!” was the reply. “Got a rope or anything to tie ’em up with?”

“Nothing doing in that way,” answered Jule. The leader of the outlaws now appealed to the newcomer for release.

“This lad,” he said, “is inclined to take the incident which took place recently rather seriously. I can’t make him understand that it was all a joke.”

“Joke, was it?” asked Jule. “Well, the joke cost the life of your chum!”

And the boy related the scene he had just witnessed.

Just how it was done the boys never knew. One minute the three men stood facing the lads, the next they were crunching their way through the underbrush. And Alex had not fired a shot. He had been too busy listening to Jule’s recital of the scene in the forest.

The boys knew the outlaws would lose no time in making an effort to regain possession of the weapons, so they took to their heels.

“Why didn’t you shoot?” demanded Jule.

“I was too much interested in the story you were telling,” was the panting reply. “I think I must be a chump!”

The river was not far away, and the boys struck out for it with all the running ability they possessed, halting only when they stood on its southern bank.

The outlaws had not yet made their appearance, and the boys fancied they, too, were running only in an opposite direction.

“Now what?” asked Jule. “We can’t swim across, can we?”

“I should say not!” was the reply, as Alex threw himself down on the turf. “To tell the truth, I’m about all in! Do you see anything of Captain Joe?” he added. “I presume the fool dog followed the outlaws away.”

Jule grinned, thinking of the figure cut by Alex as he stood with the huge revolver, threatening the three men.

“I wonder if the gun is loaded?” he said, taking it into his hand. “I have known men to carry empty weapons. For the love of Mike, it sure is empty!”

The boy rolled over and over on the grass, making faces at his chum and laughing softly.

“Nice time you would have had if they had turned on you!” he said tauntingly, but just at that moment the chum was too busy watching the dog to pay the slightest attention to him.

The dog had again made his appearance on the bank of the river showing all his teeth, and back of him came the outlaws!

They were laughing uproariously, because they, too, remembered that the weapons were empty, all save the one in possession of the outlaw who had set off in pursuit of the dog. They had discharged them and forgotten all about it.

CHAPTER XVI

JULE IN GREAT DANGER

Case and Thede made the most of the leaky boat, but the most was not fast enough.

“If we only had the Rambler, and had it in as good condition as it was at midnight, we could soon learn something of the missing boys, but there is no knowing how far the boat sailed after they left it, and so it is all a guess,” said Case, as he set to work bailing out the boat. “I guess this trip settles the excursions of the Rambler.”

Thede laughed. When Case was blue he was always ready to cancel all the dates made for the motor boat.

Thede let him sputter away until he was tired of grumbling, and then suggested:

“The chances are that the Rambler ran only a short distance after the boys left her. If the boys have the good sense which they have previously shown, they will follow on down the river, and so make the distance we shall be obliged to travel in this old tub all the shorter. In fact, I am looking for them at every bend in the river. We ought to meet them in a few minutes now.”

“But if they are on the opposite shore, we are going the wrong away about it,” replied Case. “The river is very wide here, and we never could paddle this old tub across it in the face of the current. I don’t see what the boys ever left the boat for. But some people never will learn by experience.”

Thede’s view of the case was certainly a hopeful one, but it was hours before they saw any signs of the lads. Then Case saw Captain Joe running along the river bank barking furiously.

“There’s the first signal!” Thede exclaimed, turning the prow of the boat toward the south shore. “And the dog seems to be in trouble. He seems to be wounded and is just about all in.”

“It strikes me that we had better get to the shore just as soon as possible.”

As Case spoke Alex came out to the river bank alone. Jule was nowhere in sight, and Alex’s clothing was so torn that he looked like a ragman.

“Alex has been up against something pretty strong to give that tired look to his face,” Thede exclaimed as he turned the boat toward the south shore. “Did you ever see a more disreputable human being?”

“Never!” was the reply.

The old tub of a boat struck the beach at last, and was promptly boarded by Alex, who was gasping for breath.

“Did you bring your automatics?” was the first question.

“Sure!” was Case’s answer.

As the boy spoke he took a weapon from his pocket and handed it to the lad.

“What’s doing?” he asked as he did so. “And where is Jule?”

“Come with me and I’ll show you where Jule is,” was Alex’s reply. “Walk softly! There are others with him. When I give the word you just rush, and rush to some purpose.”

Without knowing what they were to meet, Case and Thede swept down into a thicket and, in obedience to a motion from Alex, drew up for a minute and waited.

The three outlaws had captured Jule and were about to burn his feet if he did not tell where his chum was.

“Oh, he’ll answer fast enough as soon as he feels the flames tickling his toes,” the leader said. “We’re going to exterminate this nest of vipers, and don’t you forget it!”

“Go as far as you like,” Jule answered. “I still refuse to tell. Nice boy I’d be, if I betrayed my chum!”

“We’ll see about that!”

One of the outlaws was evidently opposed to what was about to be done, for he drew the leader aside and whispered in his ear for several minutes. At the end of that time the leader shook his head and turned, with a sharp order, to an evil-faced, scowling outlaw who appeared equal to any piece of deviltry.

The man addressed was quick to obey the command. He took a handful of matches from a pocket and proceeded to light one of them.

All the time there was a grin upon his face which told how much he enjoyed the assignment.

Jule did not believe that he would be deserted by his chum. He had no idea in what shape the assistance would come, but he was perfectly well satisfied that it would come. Alex had broken away from the robbers and taken to his heels and would be sure to return at the critical moment.

As Jule saw the preparations for torture going on he wished that Alex would hasten to the rescue, but he had no doubt of the final result. Alex was loyal.

“Now,” said Case, taking out his automatic, “you see what the intention is. I have a notion that it is the deliberate intention of the devils to torture the boy to death. How should he know where Alex is? It is a subterfuge to make the act appear more humane. This being the case, what ought we to do to the outlaws?”

“If you don’t decide on something pretty soon Jule will get his feet cooked!” interposed Alex. “What ought we to do with the devils? Kill ’em, I say!”

“It does seem that drastic measures should be adopted,” the surgeon put in. “Of course, we can’t decide what to do with them while they are still at large, but we can make up our minds. It ought to be an easy thing to catch them.”