Frank Merriwell Down South Part 17

You are bound far in the mountains, and the false Pacheco will follow.

If you are captured, he may turn back. I want him to follow you--I want you to lead him into the snare. That is why I am here, and that is why I have warned you, senors. It is done, and now I will go."

He arose to his feet, heedless of Bushnell's command to "keep still,"

and strode toward the horses. They saw an extra animal was there, and, in a moment, he had flung himself on the creature's back.

"_Buenos dias, senores._"

A clatter of hoofs, the flutter of a poncho, and a crimson serape, and Rodeo's horse was galloping up the ravine that still led deeper into the mountains. Man and horse soon vanished from view.

CHAPTER XI.

THE AWAKENING VOLCANO.

Two days later, shortly after sunset, the party camped far in the depths of the Sierra Madre Mountains.

The words of Rodeo, the half-blood, had proved true, for they were pursued by the bandits, but, thanks to the skill of Bushnell, they had been able to give the desperadoes the slip.

"By ther end of another day we oughter be able ter clap our peepers on ther Silver Palace," declared the Westerner.

Professor Scotch was now as eager as any of them to see the wonderful palace, all his doubts having been dispelled by Bushnell's straightforward narrative of the discovery of the place by himself and Jack Burk.

"I wonder what causes that column of smoke we saw rising amid the mountains to the westward to-day?" said Frank.

Bushnell shook his head.

"Thet thar has troubled me some," he admitted. "It seems ter be fair an'

squar' in ther direction of ther Silver Palace."

"Maype dose pandits peen aheadt uf us und purn der balace up," suggested Hans, with an air of very great wisdom.

"I scarcely think they would be able to burn a building made of stone, gold, and silver," smiled Frank.

"Wa'al, not much," said Bushnell. "Ther palace will be thar when we arrive. You needn't worry about thet."

They were very tired, and, feeling secure in the depths of a narrow ravine, they soon slept, with the exception of Frank, who had the first watch.

The moon came up over the mountain peaks, which stood out plainly in the clear light, every gorge and fissure being cut black as ink, and showing with wonderful distinctness.

The shadow was deep in the narrow ravine, and Frank sat with his back to a wall of rock, looking upward, when he was startled to see a figure rise in the bright moonlight.

On the brink of the ravine above stood a man who seemed to be peering down at them.

"Awaken!" cried this man, in a loud voice. "You are in great danger!"

The cry aroused every sleeper, and Bushnell started up with his Winchester clutched ready for use.

"What is it?" he asked.

Frank clutched his arm, gasping:

"Merciful goodness! look there--look at that man's face! Can the dead return to life?"

He pointed at the man on the brink of the ravine above them. The light of the moon fell fairly on the face of this man, which was plainly revealed to every one of the startled and thunderstruck party.

"Move lively, down there!" cried the man, with a warning gesture.

"There have been spies upon you, and Pacheco knows where you have stopped for the night."

Bushnell dropped his rifle, clutching at the neck of his s.h.i.+rt, and gasping for breath.

"By ther livin' G.o.ds!" he shouted, "it's my pard, Jack Burk, or it's his spook!"

"Id vas a sbook!" gurgled Hans Dunnerwust, quivering with fear. "Id vos der sbook uf der man vot we seen deat as a toornail!"

In truth, the man on the brink of the ravine looked like Jack Burk, who had been declared dead in the adobe hut near Mendoza.

"It is a resemblance--it must be a resemblance!" muttered Frank.

Once more the man above uttered a warning:

"You were trailed by a spy," he declared. "The spy saw you camp here, and he has gone to bring Pacheco and the bandits. They will be here soon. If you escape, you must move without further delay."

"It not only looks like my pard," said Bushnell, hoa.r.s.ely, "but it has ther voice of my pard! Ef Jack Burk is dead, thet sh.o.r.e is his spook!"

And then, as suddenly as he had appeared, the man above vanished from view.

"Gone!" gasped Professor Scotch, wiping the cold perspiration from his face. "I never took stock in ghosts before, but now----"

"Remember his warning," cut in Frank. "We had better heed it."

"Dot vos righd," nodded Hans.

"Yes, thet's right," agreed Bushnell. "We'll git out of hyar in a howlin' hurry. Ef Jack Burk is dead, then thet wuz his spook come to warn his old pard."

There was saddling and packing in hot haste, and the little party was soon moving along the ravine.

For at least thirty minutes they hastened onward, and then the Westerner found a place where the horses could climb the sloping wall of the ravine and get out of the gorge. It was no easy task to make the animals struggle to the top, but Bushnell succeeded in forcing them all up. When the party was out of the ravine every one breathed with greater freedom.

"There," said Frank, "I do not feel as if we might be caught like rats in a trap."

Frank was the last to move from the ravine, and, just as he was about to do so, he seemed to catch a glimpse of something moving silently in the darkness.

"Hist!" came the warning from his lips. "Come here, Bushnell--professor, Hans, stay with the horses. Be cautious, and come lively."

He flung himself on his face in the shadow of a great bowlder, and peered down into the darkness below.