“They may be all right,” he reflected, “but I don’t like the looks of it and it will be just as well to keep out of their way.”
“I wonder what is the matter with Brownie,” he cogitated after a bit, for in spite of all his efforts the horse’s pace became more labored and slower. His pursuers, if such they were, were rapidly gaining on him.
“They may be after me and they may be only traveling in this direction,” he reasoned, “but I am going to find out. I will ride over to the woods, it is out of my way and off the trail, if they follow I’ll know they are after me.”
Turning his horse’s head in the direction of the forest he proceeded as fast as he could. Looking back after a few moments he saw that the men had changed their course and were plainly headed toward and rapidly gaining on him. His position was decidedly unpleasant. The outlaws he was sure, had recognized him as one of the comrades who were visiting at the hacienda, and of whom they had heard enough, through Took, to regard as dangerous enemies and to be gotten out of the way. Whether they knew that the comrades had discovered the secret of the lost river or not, they were evidently anxious to be rid of them.
“I can’t successfully resist them if they attack me,” reasoned Chot, “I wish I had brought a gun of some kind. As it is the only thing I can do is to try and elude them.” Chot thought quickly. “If I can jump from the saddle into one of the trees I won’t leave any trail and they won’t know where I have gone. I’ll try it anyhow,” he said to himself, “even if I fail I won’t be any worse off, for my mount is laboring painfully.”
The wood which he was now approaching was of very heavy timber and little underbrush had grown up between the trees. The trees themselves were well scattered yet were so large, their wide spreading branches interlaced. Even the lower branches were so high that Chot could not reach them with his extended hand. Climbing now on to the saddle he got first on his knees, as he and his chums had practiced in their efforts to imitate the tricks of the cowboys at the hacienda, then on to his feet; here he balanced himself for an instant. While the horse was loping along under his persistent urging he came to a slightly sagging branch, grasping it he sprang into the tree. Quickly he drew himself up out of sight of any one below.
He had scarcely succeeded in doing this when the bandits, who were only a short distance behind him when he entered the woods, were heard galloping below him.
“We have got him now,” he overheard Jose saying to his companion.
“Don’t be too sure of that,” objected Miguel. “They are devils those Americans.”
“A fig for your devils,” returned Jose. “If I can get my hands on him I will take care of him all right.”