CHAPTER IV.
THROUGH THE GREAT DARKNESS.
Little given to emotion as he was, Bud Wilson reeled backward as ifabout to fall, and gripped the woodwork of the sluice till the bloodcame beneath his nails. His eyes were still riveted on the yawningblack mouth of the tunnel, and the white-flecked, yellow water racinginto it, when the followers of the chase for life came galloping up,leading the ponies of the two boys who had vanished. Blank looks wereexchanged as they learned what had happened.
"Not a chance for them." was the consensus of opinion.
Jack Merrill was not a boy who does things without due thought,however. When he had jumped into what seemed certain death he had doneso with a definite plan in his head.
In moments of intense mental strain the mind sometimes acts withlightning-like rapidity, and Jack had reasoned like a flash that theirrigation tunnel, being built to convey water to the lands of theMaguez Land and Development Company, probably emerged on their lands,which lay not more than a mile away. Of course, he was not certain ofthis, but the life of his friend was at stake.
Spent as his chum was, Jack thought Ralph could hardly last throughoutthe passage of the tunnel, while he, Jack, was fresh, and also astronger swimmer. These thoughts had all raced through his mind whilehe kicked off his boots and tugged his shirt over his head.
Then had come the swift flash below him of Ralph's white, imploringface--and the leap.
For a second the current, as he struck it, seemed to be tearing Jacklimb from limb. The undertow at the sluice caught him and dragged himdown, down, and held him under the turbid water till it seemed thathis head must burst open. At last, however, he was shot to the surfacelike a cork out of a bottle. Joyously he filled his lungs and beganswimming.
As his hands struck out they encountered something.
To his intense joy, the next instant Jack found that the current hadthrown its two victims, himself and Ralph Stetson, together, and nonetoo soon.
Ralph's eyes were closed, and though he still floated, he seemedincapable of further effort.
Hardly had Jack time to note this, when the light was suddenly blottedout, as if a great curtain had been drawn across the sun. There was amighty roaring, like that of a thousand huge cataracts in his ears, andhe knew that they had entered the water tunnel.
Where would it lead them?
Fortunately, to Jack, fresh as he was, it was not hard to supportRalph, who was almost exhausted, and keep his own head above water atthe same time. All that the Western boy now feared was that he wouldgive out before they reached the mouth of the tunnel, or a still morealarming possibility which he hardly dared to dwell on.
What if the tunnel narrowed?
In that case they would be completely submerged, and if the water wereenclosed in an iron tube for any great distance, they would inevitablybe miserably drowned. The roaring in the tunnel was terrific, but atleast it meant one thing, and that was that there was space for soundto reverberate.
On and on they shot, borne like straws on the surface of the madtorrent.
"Does this thing never end, or have they run it clear through to thePacific?" Jack began to wonder.
It seemed to him they had been traveling for hours. In reality it wasonly a few minutes.
All at once the boy was hurled against the side of the tunnel, andhis feet touched bottom. If it had not been for the velocity of thecurrent, he could have stopped his mad course right there. But thesmooth sides of the tube afforded no hand hold, and the rapidity of thestream precluded all idea of attempting to stem the torrent.
But this incident meant to Jack that what he had dreaded most wasactually happening.
The subterranean watercourse was narrowing.
Hardly had the thought flashed through his mind before he felt himselfsucked by what seemed an invisible arm below the surface. At the sameinstant Ralph was torn from his arms, and both boys, submerged in anarrow part of the tunnel, were drawn through the dark tube at thespeed of an express train.
"The end!" was the thought that flashed through Jack's mind as he feltthat his worst apprehension had come true.
But it was not the end, for an instant later he was shot out of theterrible restriction of the narrow irrigation tube into brilliant,blinding sunlight.
"Why, this is a sort of scenic railway!" was the whimsical idea thatsped across the boy's mind as he gazed about him. The current hadceased dashing him about, and he was floating in a large pool fromwhich ramifications of sluiceways led in every direction. It was themain retaining basin of the irrigation works. Weakened though he was,Jack found no difficulty in swimming here, and, to his delight, notmany feet from him Ralph was still struggling feebly for life. A fewstrokes brought the boy to his chum's side, and a few strokes morebrought them both ashore.
They reached the shallow bank, and Jack laid Ralph down. As he didso, the other boy fainted in good earnest. As Jack bent over his chumhe was startled to hear a voice above, and looking up, saw a manin irrigation boots, with a big shovel in his hand, gazing at themcuriously.
"Say, are you real, or just what the ground grew?" demanded thestranger. "The advertisements of this land company say their land'llgrow anything, but dear land of Goshen! I didn't know it grew boys.That's a crop I've no use for. I've four of my own, and----"
"We're real boys, have nothing to do with any land company, and don'twant to, either, after our experience in their water tunnel; and if youcan help me get my chum up on the bank and help me revive him, I'll bemuch obliged," rejoined Jack, all in one breath.
"Well, if you came through that tube, it hasn't hurt your windany," said the rancher admiringly, dropping his irrigation tool andclambering down the bank. Together he and Jack soon had Ralph stretchedout on the warm sandy soil in a big peach orchard, and it was not longbefore the Eastern boy opened his eyes and looked about him. It waslonger, though, before he recollected what had happened. When he did,he knew that it was Jack who must have held him above water at the mostcritical stage of their wild trip through the tube.
"Thank you, Jack," he said simply.
"Oh, pshaw!" said Jack, reddening. "Didn't you trip up that Mexican andsave me getting a bullet through my head?"
At this moment a great shout caused them both to look up. Riding towardthem among the trees were a hundred or more mounted men, who brokeinto cheers as they saw the boys. They were the men who had found BudWilson at the sluice gate, and who had at once insisted on his mountingand riding on to the end of the tube to ascertain if by some marvelouschance the boys had survived. When Jack and Ralph stood up--for theyhad been sitting on the ground, relating to their interested host theiradventures--the cheers broke out afresh.
Bud Wilson did not say much. He was not a man of words, but his faceexpressed what he felt when he exclaimed in a voice that trembled alittle in spite of his efforts to keep it steady.
"Waal, I knowed you'd come out of it all right, Jack Merrill."
"I wasn't so sure of it myself, I can tell you!" laughed Jack.
"Say," said Ralph, after the first outburst of questions and answershad subsided, and the boys had had to tell over and over again everydetail of their perilous trip, "what I can't understand is why you callthat plug," pointing to the now downcast Petticoats, who had been ledalong with the party, "why you call that animal 'quiet.' What do _wild_horses do out here, eat you alive or breathe fire?"
"There was a blamed good reason fer Petticoats' ructions," said Budslowly; and while the eyes of all were fixed intently on him, he heldup a red-stained spur.
"A Mexican tickler!" cried Jack.
"That's what, and some one placed it under Petticoats' saddle blanketbefore the boy mounted," rejoined Bud solemnly.
"Poor beast! No wonder she cut up didoes," said Ralph.
"I should say not. Look at this."
The cowboy lifted the hind flap of Petticoats' saddle, and raising theblankets, showed her back raw and bleeding from the cruel roweling shehad received.
"But how
ever did that spur get there?" gasped Ralph.
"Not hard to guess. Can't you imagine?" asked Jack Merrill.
"No, unless----"
"It was that greaser you knocked out," Jack finished for him.
"Consarn the heathenish rattlesnake!" exclaimed the livery stablekeeper, who had been among those to follow the wild chase of thecanal-carried boys. "I seen him monkeying around your ponies justbefore he rode out of the barn. If I ever get my hands on him----"
A low growl running through the crowd finished his threat for him. Itwould have fared badly with Black Ramon had he been there then. But hewas far away, riding for the mountains, where he would be safe from theranchmen's vengeance.
"Waal, we'll run acrost his tracks some day," growled Bud Wilson, "andwhen we do----Waal, let's talk about the weather."
The boys said nothing, but their faces spoke volumes. By this time,such was the heat of the sun, Ralph's clothes had almost dried out, andhe was assured that he would suffer no ill effects from his immersion.As Jack was also almost dry, the rancher, who, it turned out, was afriend of Mr. Merrill's, invited the Agua Caliente party in to havesomething to eat while their houses were rubbed down and fed. Aftermore congratulations and expressions of wonderment, the horsemenfrom Maguez rode back to town, and when they had spread the story,the atmosphere of that part of the country would have proved veryunhealthful for Black Ramon. Indeed, there was talk of fitting up anexpedition to go out and get him, but it was surmised that the Mexicanhad probably ridden over the border and taken sanctuary in one of hisretreats.
"Speaking of irrigation, I'm afraid we are going to have serioustrouble with the water some day," Mr. Hungerford, the rancher, remarkedas they sat at their meal.
"You mean your orchards will be overflowed?" inquired Jack.
"Oh, no. I'm not afraid of that. That pool in which you landed from thetunnel is drained by a score of small ditches which ought to be capableof handling any overflow. No, the ranches I mean are the ones backunder the hills--the cattle ranges. The dam back near Grizzly Pass isnone too strong, I am told, and if at any time following a cloudburstthe sluiceways should not be opened in time, the retaining wall mightburst, and the whole country be swept by a disastrous flood. Damage tothousands of dollars' worth of property and the death of scores of menand cattle might also be a consequence."
"But surely the dam is well guarded?" asked Ralph.
"That's just the trouble," said Mr. Hungerford seriously. "At night, Iunderstand, only one old man is on watch there, and if he should meetwith an accident there would be no one to watch for the safety of theranchers in the foothills."
"Yep, if she'd carry away, she sure would raise Cain!" agreed BudWilson.
"Engineers are figuring on some means of strengthening the retainingwall now, I understand," rejoined Mr. Hungerford. "I hope they willcomplete their work before any storm breaks."
Soon after, the subject was changed, and at the conclusion of theirmeal, after thanking their hospitable host, the little party set outfor Agua Caliente.
"What does Agua Caliente mean, anyhow?" asked Ralph, as they rode outof Mr. Hungerford's place.
"Hot water," rejoined Bud; "and it looks to me as if we didn't have togo as far as the range to get in it."
"There are some hot springs on one part of the ranch," explained Jack.
As the sun grew low they were still in the saddle. The desert had nowbeen passed and they were traversing foothills--rough, broken ground,covered with scrub oak and split and riven by dried water courses.Behind were the dark slopes of the Sierra de la Hacheta. They appearedblack and menacing in the dying light.
"They look like regular robbers' roosts," said Ralph, regarding themas the horses picked their way over the rough road, which was scarcelybetter than a track.
"Robbers' roosts, I guess so," laughed Bud; "and there are some robberroosters among 'em, too," he went on. "Those mountains are on theborder, and some place over beyond them is the most pestiferous band ofcattle rustlers and horse thieves that ever bothered a nice, peaceablecommunity. Why, before Sam Hickey shot Walter Dodge at----"
But the boys had broken into a roar of laughter at Bud Wilson's idea ofa peaceable community.
Their merriment was brought to a sudden halt, however.
From the road ahead had come the sudden clatter of a horse's hoofs. Theanimal was evidently being urged ahead at full speed.
Bud's hand slipped swiftly back to his hip pocket. The boys realized bythis almost automatic action that they were in a country where men areapt to shoot first and ask questions afterward.
Presently a little rise brought the galloper into view.
At the sight of the advancing party, he too slackened speed, and hishand made the same curiously suggestive movement as had Bud Wilson's.
"Howdy!" called Bud tentatively to the dark form outlined against thesombre background of brown, scrub-grown foothill and purple mountain.
"Howdy, Bud Wilson!" came back the hail. "I'll be switched if I didn'tthink it was Black Ramon and some of his gang, for a minute!"
"Why, hello, Walt Phelps!" hailed Bud cheerfully, as the otheradvanced. "I didn't know but you was some sort of varmint. How be yer?"
"First class, 'Frisco to Portland, Oregon. Hello, Jack Merrill! Well,you're looking natural. Welcome to our city!"
The stranger spurred his horse nearer, and Ralph saw that he was a boyabout their own age, on a big, raw-boned gray horse that seemed capableof great efforts. Fast as the other had been advancing, the gray'sflanks hardly heaved.
"Ralph, this is Walt Phelps. He and I used to play ball together whenwe weren't off on the range some place," said Jack, turning in hissaddle to make the introduction. "He's a neighbor of ours. Lives on thenext ranch. What are you hurrying so for, Walt?"
The other shoved back his broad sombrero, and the evening light shoneon a freckled, good-natured face and the reddest hair Ralph had everseen.
"Guess you ain't heard the news?" he asked curiously.
"No, what?"
"Why, those cattle rustlers have broken out again. Raided Perkin'slast night and got away with fifty head."
"Phew!"
"And that's not all. They know who's at the head of the gang now."
"Who?"
"Why, that bullying greaser--what's his name? That Mexican who's beenin trouble a dozen times----"
"Black Ramon De Barrios?"
"That's the rooster! We heard he had the nerve to show up in town, andI'm riding in to see if I can't pick up some fellows and head him off."
"I guess you're too late, Walt."
"How do you know? You only just got in to-day from the East. I met yourfather a while back, and he told me."
"I know, but we've had time to meet Black Ramon and put something onour side of the book against him."
"Say--tell me." The other's tone held amazement.
"Come on and ride back with us, and I'll tell you as we go along.Black Ramon's on Mexican soil by this time or soon will be."
Their adventures were soon related, and by the time Jack's narrativewas concluded, the lights and welcoming voices of Agua Caliente werebefore them.