The Mark On The Door Part 11

Before them the road wound through the hills. Far in the distance they could see the grim ma.s.s of the mountains against the sky. When they looked back they could see the enormous desolation of the desert. Now that the excitement of the chase had worn off they felt tired and dispirited.

127 The road wound about the foot of a steep hill, twisting and curving so that often they could not see the path for more than a few yards ahead. Yaqui was riding around one of these bends when his pony suddenly s.h.i.+ed violently, almost throwing its rider from the saddle.

The same instant the boys heard a shot and a chorus of wild yells. They saw two Mexicans rush out from a place of concealment among the bushes at the roadside and grab the Indian's horse by the bridle. Frank looked back. A pony and rider came plunging down the slope in a cloud of dust and stones, cutting off escape to the rear.

It all happened so suddenly that neither Frank nor Joe could grasp the situation, for the roadway appeared to be alive with swarthy, evil-faced men, some on horseback, others on foot. They seemed to have sprung up out of the ground. One burly ruffian seized the bridle of Joe's pony, which was rearing and plunging in fright, while another s.n.a.t.c.hed the reins out of Frank's hands.

'Bandits!'' cried Joe. 'We're caught!''

There were about a dozen of them, and it was plain that they had been lying in ambush at the bend in the road. The men were heavily armed and as unsavory a crew of rascals as can be imagined.

One fellow, who was mounted on a spirited 128 pinto pony, seemed to be the leader, for he stood up in the stirrups and shouted orders at the others. He was a stout, villainous looking fellow with a livid scar down his right cheek.

Yaqui made no resistance, but raised his arms in the air. The attack had been so sudden and so well planned that the bandits were in command of the situation from the start.

Frank and Joe followed their guide's example and put up their hands also.

"Thank goodness, we haven't much money with us," said Frank. "I suppose that's what these men want."

"Unless they intend to hold us for ransom," muttered Joe.

The bandit leader rode toward the boys, showing his teeth in an evil smile. He said something that the Hardys could not understand. Frank pointed to their guide.

"What does he want, Yaqui? Our money?"

"With a bandit clinging to the bridle of his horse, Yaqui rode over and spoke to the leader. Then he turned to the boys and shook his head.

"It is not so simple as that," he said. "You are to give him your money, yes. But more than that, we are to be taken prisoners."

"Why?" demanded Frank angrily. "Tell him he can have our money if he'll let us go. We have only a few dollars anyway."

Yaqui interpreted this to the bandit chief.

129 who merely shook his head curtly and rasped out a sharp command, motioning to the hoys* pockets. Reluctantly the Hardys handed over the money in their possession. The bandit leader stuffed it into his pocket, then wheeled his pony about and shouted to his men.

Instantly there was great confusion. More horses were led out from hiding places among the bushes, and in a few minutes all the outlaws were in the saddle. The Hardy boys and Yaqui were in the middle of the milling group, so that there was no chance of their making a break for liberty.

"Pedro Vincenzo is at the bottom of this," declared Frank. "I "I know it." know it."

"That's why his man came to the hut. He wanted to know where we were and where we were going," Joe said disconsolately. "What do you think they intend to do with us?"

Frank was angry now. He spoke to Yaqui.

"Tell them we're not going with them. Tell their leader that we're American citizens and that Senor Marcheta will have every soldier in Mexico on their trail if we disappear."

The Indian obeyed. He interpreted Frank's words to the bandit leader. His only answer was a scowl and an ugly laugh.

" So ?" gritted the man with the scar. '' Th6 Americanos do not weesh to come weeth us?" He rode up beside Frank's horse. '' Senor,'' he 130 said, "you are my prisoner. You weel do as I say."

"I warn you that we're American citizens," declared Frank. "We have friends. You won't get away with this. The soldiers-----"

'' Bah!'' sneered the bandit chief. '' Soldiers! The soldiers have try to catch me for years.

And always they fail."

Then a change came over his face. His eyes became narrow and cruel. His hand swept to his belt and rose again. In the sunlight there flashed the blade of a knife 1

CHAPTER XVI.

THE CAVE PRISON.

involuntarily Frank drew back as the wicked knife was brandished before his eyes. Joe cried out in alarm, for he thought the bandit chief intended some harm to his brother. But the man with the scar only laughed harshly.

"Do you weesh me to use thees knife?" he asked.

Then, thrusting the weapon back into his belt, he swung his horse around and rode back to the head of his men. He struck off down a narrow trail that led away from the side of the road.

Hemmed in by bandits, the prisoners had no choice but to obey. With sinister-faced men on horses ahead and behind them they had no chance to escape, and they knew it.

Within a few minutes they were far off the road and following the trail through a wild region that led deeper into the hill country.

"Keep a stiff upper lip, Joel We'll see Bayport again-some day."

Joe mustered up a smile.

131.

132 "It's Dad I'm thinking of," he said. "He won't know what's happened to us. And if any search is made for us, it will never be in this part of the country. They'll hunt for us in the desert."

"We've been in sc.r.a.pes almost as bad as this one, and got out of them again."

"That's true. And who knows-maybe we'll learn a little more about Pedro Vincenzo. I'm sure he's back of this business."

The Hardy boys had obtained very little rest and sleep in the past few days, so eager had they been to press hard on the trail of the caravan. As a result, they were now almost exhausted.

"The only thing that keeps me going," said Frank wearily, "is the thought that maybe we're on the trail of Tremmer and Pedro after all."

Joe glanced at Yaqui.

"What will they do to us?" he asked quietly.

The Indian shrugged.

"Quien sabef* he replied. "Perhaps we die." he replied. "Perhaps we die."

This was not very rea.s.suring.

"They wouldn't dare," cried Joe.

"Who would know?" returned Yaqui. "Who is to say that we came to this part of the country? Who is to say that we did not die of thirst in the desert!"

133 The boys began to realize that their plight was very serious. It would be almost impossible for Fenton Hardy and Senor Marcheta to trace them, for it was certain that the natives in the huts near the desert would say nothing because of their fear of the bandits.

The trail led toward the hills, and into country that gradually became wilder and steeper.

The riders were in the very heart of the mountains, when darkness fell. Great lowering slopes rose on every side. In the distance the boys could hear the roar of a river. In the gloom they could see ahead the mouth of a great gorge.

Up in the high country it grew cold, and the boys were soon s.h.i.+vering. They were weak from exposure and hunger, but they were not allowed a respite.

Suddenly Joe, utterly exhausted, lunged forward and slipped from his horse.

"Joe," called Frank, "Joe, what is the matter?"

A bandit guard leaped to the ground. His pony, unattended, reared and plunged toward the numb lad on the trail. It was a moment of agony to Frank.

"Let me help my brother," he shouted.

Suiting action to words, he lashed the offending horse, which side-stepped just in time.

Joe opened his eyes.

134 "Oh, Frank," he muttered, "I guess I I fell asleep or something." fell asleep or something."

But Frank knew better. He realized it was due to lack of food and rest* that his brother had been faint, and decided to get better treatment. He set up a terrible howl, and the bandit leader gave a command to the procession.

"Halt!" he roared in Spanish.

"We need something to eat," shouted the older Hardy boy. "Eight now!"

The chief paid no attention to the suffering prisoners; instead, he spoke sharply to one of his men, who dismounted and went ahead on foot. The native's shadowy figure could be seen entering the gorge. He returned presently and whistled. Then the cortege moved on.

As the group came into the ravine the boys saw lights ahead and the blaze of a camp fire. Two or three natives came running up with cries of welcome.

"Home, sweet home!" said Joe with a wan smile.

This, obviously, was the headquarters of the bandits. The men dismounted and handed their horses over to native servants, then sprawled wearily beside the fire. Stiff and sore, Frank and Joe got down, hungrily sniffing the fragrant odors of food. A brown-faced woman brought them plates of some sort of stew. It *was highly seasoned and very hot, but they 135 devoured it gratefully, although, at another time they might not have managed to eat it at all.

"Tastes a bit like liquid fire seasoned with brimstone," said Frank, "but it hits the spot just the same. I'm so hungry I could eat a rubber boot."

"Without b.u.t.ter," mumbled Joe, his moutb full.

Finally the bandit chief gave an order to one of his men, who came over to the captives.

"Follow me!"

Along a narrow path he led the prisoners toward the cliff, holding aloft a blazing torch.

"What now?" murmured Frank as they followed their guide.

The trail led up a steep slope, so steep that they had difficulty in keeping a foothold. It went higher and higher until, when they looked back, they could see the light of the bandit camp far below in the gorge. Then they were forced to walk along a narrow ledge on the face of the cliff until the light of the torch revealed the mouth of a small cave.

Here the bandit stood aside, spoke to Yaqui, and motioned the three captives to enter.

"We are to sleep here," the Indian explained calmly.

The boys were too weary to resist, so they crawled through the small opening. The bandit 136 tossed the torch in after them. Then he set to work sealing up the cave mouth with adobe bricks that were piled about the entrance.

"Surely we're not going to be tombed up here!" cried Frank.

"This is our prison," Yaqui said.

Although the entrance was small, the cave itself was of substantial proportions. It contained a few rough pallets of straw, but nothing more. The Indian set the torch in a crevice, and in its nickering light the trio looked gloomily at one another.

"Why, we must be among the cave dwellers !'' Joe exclaimed.

"The natives who live here," explained Yaqui, "are descend from cliff dwellers. Eeal Indian tribes have nothing to do with them. They are outcast."

"Why?"

"Because they work with bandits."

"They wouldn't help us?"

The Indian shook his head.

"If we managed to get out of here, Yaqui," said Frank, "do you think you could guide us back?"

"I could find my way," admitted their guide slowly. "But we will not get away from here.

We can only wait."

"I wonder what these people plan to do with us."

137 "Our lives have been spared. It is ransom they want, I think."

"There's something more than that. This is Pedro Vincenzo 's work,'' declared Joe. '' He thought we were getting too close on his heels and he wants us out of the way. That's my guess."

"Perhaps," said Yaqui indifferently.

Why they had been captured did not greatly matter to him. The point was that they were prisoners and that there was very little they could do about it.

"I'd get a great kick out of this, being among the cliff dwellers and all," remarked Frank, "if I only knew that we could pack up and go home whenever we liked."