LOST IN THE ADOBE CHURCH
Those up in the gallery could hear the two boys calling to their companion. There was no answer to their hails, and one by one the little party left the gallery.
"I tell you he is playing tricks on us," said Ned, after they had searched all over the place without finding any trace of Stacy.
"No; I don't agree with you," answered Tad. "Something has happened to him."
"What shall we do?" asked Walter.
"Keep on looking. That is all we can do just now."
Once more they began their search, but with no better results than before.
"Have you looked outside?" asked Miss Brayton.
"Yes; we looked out. No use in hunting there, for we can see all around the place from the side door here," answered Tad. "He has gotten into some place that we know nothing about. We've got to find it, that's all."
"I would suggest that one of us ride to camp and get some of the men to come out and help us," advised Walter.
"I'll ride home, and have father send some of his own men," suggested Margaret.
"Yes; that would be best," agreed Miss Brayton.
"I wish you wouldn't," replied Tad. "It would alarm them, and Professor Zepplin would be frightened. Ned, suppose you hustle for camp and tell Mr. Stallings the fix we are in. We shall need some help, that's sure."
"All right. I'm off."
Big-foot Sanders and Curley Adams responded to the call on the run, the foreman being out with the herd at the time.
"I knew it," was Big-foot's first words as he rode up and threw himself from his pony where Tad was standing. "Now tell me all about it."
Tad did so, the cowman nodding his head vigorously as Tad told him all he knew about Chunky's mysterious disappearance.
"Which way did he go?" asked Curley.
"That we do not know," answered Miss Brayton.
"His cry seemed to come from the back of the church somewhere," spoke up Ned.
"We'll go in and look around, then," decided Big-foot, striding into the church. "Whew! smells pretty musty in here. What's that up there?"
"That's where we were eating our lunch when we heard Chunky call," Walter informed him.
"How long since you had seen him—was he up there with you?"
"No; he had left us twenty minutes before we began eating lunch," answered Ned.
"Humph!" grunted the cowman, gazing about him in perplexity. "Sure it isn't a trick?"
Tad shook his head.
"No. He was in trouble. I knew that from his tone."
"Then he must have fallen in some place," announced Big-foot. "He couldn't fall up, so there's no use looking anywhere but on the ground floor here," he decided, wisely. "Anybody know of any holes that he might drop into?"
"Not that I have seen," answered Ned. "The floor is as solid as stone."
"Well, that beats all. You boys scout around outside, while Curley and I are looking things over in here. Besides, I want to be alone and think this thing over."
"What do you make of it, Big-foot?" asked Curley Adams, after the others had gone outside.
"I ain't making. When it comes to putting my wits against a spook place, I'm beyond roping distance. We'll look into these holes in the wall around here, first," he said, referring to the niches and cell-like rooms that they saw leading off from the auditorium. "You make it your business to sound the floor. We may find some kind of trap door."
Curley went about bringing down the heels of his heavy boots on the hard floor, but it all sounded solid enough. There was no belief in the mind of either that the lad could have disappeared in any of the places they had examined—that is, that he could have done so through any ordinary accident.
Like most cowboys, both Curley and Big-foot possessed a strong vein of superstition in their natures. To them there was something uncanny in Stacy Brown's mysterious and sudden disappearance.
"Here's a door, but it's closed," called Curley.
"That's so," agreed Big-foot, hurrying over to him. "The thing is sealed up with mortar. Hasn't been used in fifty cats' lives. Wonder what's behind it."
"Not the boy; that's certain."
"Nope. He didn't fall through there."
"Find any other doors open or closed?"
"Nary a one."
"Well, that seems to settle this part of the ranch; we've got to look somewhere else. What bothers me is that we don't hear him call. If he was anywhere near, and had his voice, he'd be yelling for help," decided the big cowboy.
"Don't think he's dead, do you?"
"I don't think at all. I don't know," answered Big-foot.
"It's my idea that the gopher isn't in here at all," announced Curley, with emphasis.
His companion eyed him thoughtfully.
"You're almost human at times, Curley. I reckon you've said the only true words that's been spoke by us this afternoon. We look for the gopher and don't find him. You say he ain't here, and he isn't. Great head! But that don't find him. The question is, where is he?"
"We'll have to look outside," answered Curley.
"Right you are. Come on."
But their search outside was as fruitless as had been their quest within the old adobe church. Not a trace of Stacy Brown did they find.
"Ned, I think you had better take the young ladies home," said Tad finally.
"Want me to tell Professor Zepplin?"
"Not right away. You can tell him on the way out here. He will not have quite so long to worry, but I think he should know about it. The matter is serious. Where did you say Mr. Stallings was, Big-foot?"
"Out with the new herd. The cattle are pretty restless."
"Walt, you go in and tell the foreman the difficulty we are in. I'll wait here and go on with the search. If he can get away I wish he would come."
"I'll tell him," answered Walter, hurrying away.
"I am sorry we have spoiled your afternoon, Miss Brayton," said Tad. "It's too bad. But I'm afraid something serious has happened to our friend."
"Shall we see you again, Mr. Butler?"
"Of course. I don't know when the herd will start on. We certainly shall not do so until we have found Stacy. Anyway, we will ride over some time to-morrow and bid you all good-bye."
Assisting the young women into their saddles, Tad bade their friends good afternoon and turned sadly back to the church, while Ned Rector rode back to the Ox Bow ranch with the young women.
"Well, what do you think?" demanded the lad, as he faced the big cowboy.
"I don't think. My thinker's all twisted out of shape," answered Big-foot. "I can't tell you what to do. Wait till the boss gets here."
"I guess that will be best," replied Tad. "We have done all we know how to do."
The two men and the boy wandered about the church aimlessly, saying little, but thinking a great deal, impatiently awaiting the arrival of Bob Stallings, to whom they now looked to show them the way out of their difficulty.
The foreman arrived, in the course of half an hour, with his pony on a sharp run. They had heard him approach, and were outside waiting for him.
"Well, this is a nice kettle of fish!" exclaimed Stallings, leaping to the ground, tossing his reins to Curley Adams. "Tell me about it."
Once more Tad Butler related all the facts in his possession regarding Stacy Brown's mysterious disappearance.
"Big-foot thinks it's spooks," added Tad.
"That's all bosh," exploded the foreman. "It's getting late in the afternoon, and I've no time to waste. I'll find him for you. What ails you, Big-foot? Getting weak in the knees?"
"Not as I knows of. This funny business is kinder getting on my nerves, though."
"Humph!" grunted the foreman, starting for the church in long strides. "Nerves in a cowboy! Humph!"
They watched the tall figure of Stallings charging through the adobe house, peering here and there, asking questions in short, snappy sentences, going down on his knees in search of footprints. Finally he rose from his task with a puzzled look in his eyes.
"Tell me that story again," he demanded.
Tad did so.
The foreman went outside and surveyed the building from all sides.
"There's some secret room or passage in there somewhere. The gopher has stumbled into it. We are going to discover the mystery of the church of San Miguel before we have done here—that is, we are if we're lucky," he added.
Bob Stallings' words were prophetic, though he did not know it. The discovery was to be one that would give the big foreman the surprise of his life, and that would affect all his after life as well.