A PENITENT PRISONER
By the time the raft grated on the pebbles of the mainland the moon had begun to show over the horizon, and its light dissipated some of the difficulties that confronted the boys in their undertaking. They rolled Pedro onto the beach with difficulty, and sat down beside him for a moment to rest.
The prisoner began to show some signs of coming to, and Injun was for taking a huge rock and preventing any return to consciousness by banging the man on the head with it. Whitey prevented this, however; but he assured himself that Pedro was securely tied. By means of some tough, but pliable vines that Injun got from the brush near at hand, he not only bound Pedro's hands behind his back, but hobbled him so that he could take a step of not more than a foot in length. In addition to this, he put a slip-noose about the man's neck with a long leash; and having Pedro thus trussed up, he awaited his returning consciousness with some interest.
The outlaw took several short, gasping breaths, each longer than the other, and at last, his eye-lids trembled and then opened, and he looked at the two boys beside him. It took him a moment to realize his situation. When he did, it was evident that he did not enjoy it, and he looked malevolently at the boys. Injun brandished a huge club that he picked up nearby.
"Had a 'nize, leetle' nap, didn't you, Pedro!" said Whitey, imitating Pedro's taunting tone. "That dinner for 'ze feeshes' had to be postponed, didn't it! Now, maybe you'd like to say a few prayers? How about it?"
Pedro decided upon other tactics: "Pedro jus' play jok' on nize, leetle boys! Pedro not hurt nize boys!"
"I know blame well you won't," said Whitey, "for the simple reason that you can't! You're going to be 'ver' nize' from now on! Nice and gentle! Come on," he said, rising, "you are due for a nice long walk back to the ranch—it's only sixty miles and there's a hearty welcome waiting for you there—your old friend Bill Jordan will be mighty glad to see you!"
Pedro studied Whitey's face with his black, evil eyes. "Sure!" he said, "I go—be ver' nize! Yo' ontie Pedro's foots so he walk!"
"Sure!" said Whitey, "I'm full of those tricks! I'll untie your feet—when we get to the ranch! Get a move on!"
Pedro rose to his feet and started off as well as the hobble would let him, but made rather a poor job of walking over the rough ground in the semi-darkness. He made another appeal to have the hobble removed, but he abandoned any further effort in that direction when Whitey said, "Injun, if he turns around again or makes any bluff at falling down or not being able to walk, you just belt him one over the head with that club and see if it doesn't help him to walk better!"
"Me soak 'em!" said Injun, eagerly, and he gripped the club; he evidently didn't see the use of waiting until Pedro did any of these forbidden things, but was willing to hit him now and let him disobey the rules afterward.
"'Twon't do to muss him up too much," protested Whitey. "The boys at the ranch will want to hang a whole man, not a half of one; and if you ever land on him with that club, we'll have to bury him right here!"
Injun indicated that such a proceeding wouldn't be any trouble at all to him, but Whitey said it would take too long as they didn't have a spade! What Pedro thought about it is not recorded.
After a considerable time and in spite of numberless difficulties—Injun, being without any clothes whatever, suffered somewhat from the briars and rough vines and branches—the strange procession arrived at the glade where the horses had been left, and found that the animals were still there. And while it would have done Pedro good to have been compelled to walk back to the Bar O ranch, yet Whitey figured that it would delay them unnecessarily, and, therefore, he decided to tie the gentleman on the pack-horse. To do this, it would be necessary to untie the hobbles that limited Pedro's leg-action, and the vine was accordingly cut, releasing his legs, while Injun stood over him with the club, ready to "soak 'em" at the first move. Whitey looked at the gleaming bronze skin of Injun and asked, "Aren't you cold, Injun?" Injun disclaimed any such feeling contemptuously.
"I thought," said Whitey, "that as long as we had his legs untied, you might want a pair of pants?"
Injun experienced a startling reversal of form: "Ugh! Injun heap cold!" he said with a tremendous show of shivering. And accordingly the transfer was made, although Pedro put up an awful fuss, which was entirely futile. True, the trousers were not a perfect fit, and they were very wet and soggy; but they were a pair of trousers, and Injun was not particular.
After drawing them on, he proceeded to investigate the pockets, and took therefrom a very sizable roll of bills and several water-soaked documents. There was not sufficient time or light to investigate the character of the documents, but from the way Pedro took on, they were evidently of some importance. He wheedled and whined and pleaded and then cursed and threatened, but all that only confirmed the boys in their determination to keep the stuff.
Under the persuasion of Injun's club, Pedro was soon seated on the pack-horse, his legs bound very tight beneath the horse's belly and the cavalcade started on their sixty-mile trip.
The cavalcade started on its sixty-mile trip.
The moon had risen and shed a full, silver flood over the woods and the prairie, and it was almost as light as day. It is said that moonlight will make almost anything look romantic; but it is hard to believe that Pedro, clad in a wet, bedraggled coat and red flannel underwear, and with a leash around his neck and his hands tied behind his back, could have inspired anything but laughter in anybody. He was "mad clear through" and his language was distinctly not fit for publication—he had abandoned all efforts to wheedle by this time, having discovered that he was not dealing with children, as he had at one time supposed—and he proceeded to exhaust a very comprehensive vocabulary of profanity in what sounded like six different languages. Whitey stood it for some time, and then he said, "Now look here, Pedro, if you say another word before sunrise, I'm going to put a gag into that foul mouth of your's that'll keep you quiet. I wouldn't let even these horses hear such talk! You told me to say my prayers, and now, I think, under the circumstances, you better follow your own advice!"
And thus admonished, in addition to the fact that Whitey drew the slip-noose a trifle tighter around Pedro's Adam's apple, that gentleman proceeded to subside.
It would be idle to follow the incidents of the long ride to the Bar O ranch—in fact, there was no incident worth noting. Pedro made several efforts to talk himself out of his plight, and once, he tried to get his hands out of the bonds that held them and almost succeeded. But what good it would have done if he had succeeded, is not plain. The boys had a sharp eye on him at all times, and his legs were firmly bound beneath the horse. Besides, Injun was right on hand and ready with the club, which would have had a very salutary effect on anybody.