SOLVING THE MYSTERY
"We can't do much of anything more until daylight," announced the foreman finally. "You see, it's getting dark now."
"You—you are going to leave him here?" asked Tad hesitatingly.
"That's all we can do, so far as I see. But we'll put one of the men on guard to watch the place. To-morrow morning we'll take it upon ourselves to tear down that door that's sealed up. It may lead into the place where the boy fell in. Yes; we'll bring down the whole miserable shack if necessary."
"You—you think he is here, then?"
"Of course. Where else could he be? He walked away and disappeared right before your eyes. He could not get away if he had gone outside. So where is he? In the church, of course."
"Then I will remain here and watch the place," decided Tad firmly.
Stallings glanced at him hesitatingly.
"All right. I guess you have got the nerve to do it. I can't say as much for the rest of the bunch. You come along with me, now, and get your supper. After that you may return if you want to. Big-foot, you and Curley stay here until the Pinto gets back. Better keep busy. You may stumble upon something before you know it."
The two cowboys did not appear to be any too well pleased with the task assigned to them, but they obeyed orders without protest.
The evening had grown quite dark by the time the cowmen had finished their supper. All had been discussing the strange disappearance of Stacy Brown. It did not seem to surprise them. They had expected trouble when they reached the vicinity of the adobe church. They had had little else during the time they had been in the camp.
"Send Curley and Big-foot in," directed the foreman after Tad had announced his readiness to return to the church.
"We'll all go," spoke up Ned Rector.
"It's not at all necessary," answered Tad.
"No; I have decided to let Big-foot go back after he has eaten. He can remain with you until ten-thirty, when he takes his trick on guard. Then the rest of you may go out if you wish. It isn't fair to leave the Pinto there alone all night. If I change my plans I'll send out Master Ned or Walter. Run along now, Tad."
The lad mounted his pony and galloped slowly out for his long vigil. He was greatly disturbed over the loss of Chunky. Yet he could not bring himself to believe that great harm had come to the boy.
"Anything new?" he called as he rode up.
"Nary a thing. Plenty of funny noises inside the shack. Kinder gives a fellow the creeps; that's all."
"You are to come back and remain with me until your watch, I believe, Big-foot."
"Nice job you've cut out for me," answered the cowman.
"I had nothing to do with it. It's the foreman's order," answered Tad.
"Better bring a lantern with you. We may need it before the night is over."
"All right," answered Big-foot, swinging into his saddle. After the cowmen had left, Tad walked out a little way from the church and sat down in the sand. He was within easy hearing of the place in case anyone should call out.
It was a lonely spot. Tad had not sat there long before the noises that the cowmen had spoken of began again.
The lad listened intently for a moment.
"Bats," he said. "I can hear them flying about me. I hope none of them hit me in the face. I've heard they do that sometimes."
The pony, which had been staked down well out on the plain, was now moving about restlessly.
"I wonder if the noises are getting on the broncho's nerves, too? There's nothing here to be afraid of. I'm not afraid," declared Tad firmly, rising and pacing back and forth.
He was relieved, just the same, when the big cowman rode back, an hour later, and took up the vigil with him. The two talked in subdued tones as they walked back and forth, the lad expressing the opinion that they would find Stacy unharmed when they once discovered the mysterious place into which he had unwittingly stumbled.
"You see, those walls are so thick that we couldn't hear him even if he did call out. He may even have gotten in where they buried those monks we've heard about. I hope not, though."
"He wouldn't know it," said Big-foot.
"No, probably not in the darkness. Did you bring that lantern?"
"Pshaw! I forgot it. Mebby I'd better go back and get it."
"No; never mind, Big-foot. The moon will be up after a time. Then we shall not need it. You are going in for the ten-thirty trick, are you not?"
"That's what the boss said," replied Big-foot.
The right section of the herd was now bedded within a short distance of the church. They could hear the singing of the cowboys as they circled slowly around the sleeping cattle.
"Guess we are not going to have any more trouble with them," said Tad, nodding toward the herd.
"Don't be too sure. I feel it coming. I have a feeling that trouble ain't more'n a million miles away at this very minute."
"I wish you wouldn't talk that way. You'll get me feeling creepy, first thing you know. I've got to stay here all night," said Tad.
Big-foot laughed. They passed the time as best they could until the hour for the departure of the cowboy arrived. Then Tad was left alone once more. He circled about the church, listening. Once he thought he heard the hoof-beats of a pony. But the sound died away instantly, and he believed he must have been wrong.
After half an hour Big-foot returned. The foreman had decided, so long as the cattle were quiet, to have him remain with Tad. If the cowboy should be needed in a hurry the foreman was to fire a shot in the air as a signal.
Tad was intensely pleased at this arrangement. After chatting a while they lay down on the ground, speaking only occasionally, and then in low tones. The mystery of the night seemed to have awed them into silent thought. They had lain there for some time, when Tad suddenly rose on one elbow.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered.
"Yes," breathed the cowman.
"What—what do you think it was?"
"Sounded as if some one had jumped to the ground. We'd better crawl up there. It was by the church. I told you it was coming."
"Do you suppose it was Chunky?"
"No. He'd be afraid of the dark. You'd hear him yelling for help."
Tad had his doubts of that; but, just the same, he, too, felt that the noise they had heard had not been made by Stacy Brown. A silence of several minutes followed. The two had crawled only a few feet toward the church, when, with one common impulse, they flattened themselves on the ground and listened.
Now they could distinctly hear some one cautiously moving about in front of the church. It seemed to Tad as if the mysterious intruder were standing on the broad stone flagging at the top of the steps leading into the adobe church.
Tad slowly rose to his feet.
"Who's there?" he cried in a voice that trembled a little.
A sudden commotion followed the question, and the listeners distinctly caught the sound of footsteps on the flagging.
A flash lighted the scene momentarily.
Big-foot had fired a shot toward the church. A slight scream followed almost instantly.
"I winged it!" shouted the cowman, lifting his weapon for another shot.
Tad struck the gun up. The lad was excited now.
"Stop!" he commanded. "Don't do that again. Do you want to kill somebody?"
With that Tad ran, his feet fairly flying over the ground, in the direction of the church steps. In the flash of the gun he had caught a glimpse of a figure standing there. The sight thrilled him through and through.
As the plucky lad reached the steps some one started to run down them. Tripping, the unknown plunged headlong to the ground.
The boy was beside the figure in an instant.
"Big-foot!" he shouted.
The cowman came tearing up to him.
"What is it?" he bellowed in his excitement.
"It's a woman, Big-foot! It's a woman! Oh, I hope you did not hit her!"
"It's no woman; it's a spook. I know it's a spook!" fairly shouted the cowboy.
"I tell you it's a woman!" cried Tad.
He was down on his knees by her side now, raising her head.
"Get help—quick!"
Sanders took the shortest way of doing this. He, too, was alarmed now. Raising his gun above his head, he pulled the trigger three times in quick succession. As many sharp flashes leaped into the air, and as many quick reports followed.
"Sure she ain't a spirit?" demanded the cowman, peering down suspiciously, fearfully. He could make out the form on the ground but dimly.
"Don't be foolish. Run out there and meet them. I hear the ponies coming. Don't let any of them use their guns, in the excitement, or some one may get hurt," warned Tad Butler, with rare judgment.
Big-foot hurried out into the open. In the meantime Tad stroked the face and head of the woman. She was unconscious, but her flesh seemed warm to his touch.
"I wonder what it means," the perplexed boy asked himself. Tad could feel his own pulses beating against his temples. It seemed to him as if all the blood in his body were hurling itself against them.
Cowboys on their ponies came thundering up from different directions. In the lead was Bob Stallings, the foreman of the outfit.
"You idiots!" he shouted. "Do you want to stampede the herd again? What do you mean?"
"I've winged a spook!" yelled Big-foot Sanders. "She's over there by the steps now. The kid's got her."
"Spook—nonsense!" snapped the foreman, leaping from his pony and rushing to the spot indicated by Big-foot.
"What——" chorused the cowboys.
"Is it the boy—have they found him?"
"If you all don't insist on talking at once, mebby we can find out what the row's about," snarled Curley Adams.
The foreman stopped suddenly as he observed Tad sitting at the foot of the church steps. He saw, too, another form there, but it was so dimly outlined in the deep shadows that he was unable to make it out.
"What does this mean?" he demanded sternly.
"I don't know. It's a woman. I'm afraid Big-foot's bullet hit her. We must have a light."
"Bring matches!" roared the foreman.
No one had any.
"Rustle for the camp, and fetch a lantern—and be quick about it! I've had enough of this fooling. What was she doing—how did it happen?"
Tad explained as clearly as he could how they had been disturbed by the strange noises, resulting finally in a shot from Big-foot's gun.
"The idiot! It'll be a sorry day for him if he's done any damage," growled the foreman. He stooped over and ran his hand over the unconscious woman's face. Then he applied his ear to the region of the heart.
"Huh!" he snapped, rising.
"Find anything!" asked Tad in a half whisper.
"She's alive. Heart weak, but I don't think she's seriously hurt. I don't understand it at all."
"No more do I. I'm getting dizzy over all this rapid-fire business," added the lad. "There they come with a light."
Stallings strode to the cowman who had brought the lantern. Jerking it from the man's hand the foreman ran back.
"We'll straighten her up against the steps, and try to find out how badly she is hurt," he said, placing the lantern on the ground.
Tad had partially raised her, when he let the girl drop with a sudden, startled exclamation.
"What is it?" demanded Stallings incisively.
"It's Miss Ruth!"
"Who?"
"Miss Ruth——"
By the dim lantern light the foreman saw her face outlined against the dark background of green. His eyes were fixed upon her, and Bob Stallings seemed scarcely to breathe.
"Ruth Brayton!" he gasped.
"Yes," answered Tad in a low voice, not fully comprehending the meaning of the scene that was being enacted before him.
"Ruth Brayton," repeated Stallings, slowly passing a hand across his forehead. "Ruth!" he cried, throwing himself to his knees beside her.
"I tell ye I winged a spook," insisted Big-foot Sanders to a companion as they came up.
Tad raised a warning hand for silence.