Roughriders of the Pampas: A Tale of Ranch Life in South America

by F. S. Brereton

The man answered sourly, as if he considered his leader to be acting stupidly, and showed plainly that if the order was that this band of inquisitive gauchos and their English leaders was to be captured unharmed, he at least was not in favor of such a policy.

"I have given the order strictly," he added; "but were I in your shoes I would wring the neck of every one of the dogs."

"But you are a fool," came the short, curt answer, while the squat figure turned in the saddle and faced the man who had just spoken, the ugly leader of the band of ruffians peering into his lieutenant's face with such a malignant expression that had it been light the man would have started backward. As it was he had incurred the anger of his master more than once before, and even though the darkness hid the scowling face which was thrust within a foot of his, this ruffian cringed, and sat far back in his saddle, muttering beneath his breath. For Antonio Sarvisti had a reputation. He was the leader of a band of lawless men, and knew that such a position was no sinecure. Words meant weakness. Disobedience on the part of one of his men, if left unpunished for an instant, would lead to mutiny, and then a swift death would be the reward of the leader. No, Antonio had a short way with his following, and a hand which went quickly to his revolver. A lesson now and again was of advantage, and this ugly leader was not the man to hesitate. He was one of those ruthless savages who know how to command desperadoes. He held them at arm's length, treated them more as children, allowed them to quarrel and fight as much as they liked amongst themselves, and, like the astute ruffian he was, whenever they showed signs of discontent he at once organized a raid with which to distract their attention, for he well knew that the mere thought of the booty which they would gather would sweeten their tempers. But whatever happened, strict obedience to his mere nod was a point on which he insisted, and the smallest breach meant always the crack of a pistol and a bullet in the head of the one who had misbehaved. Even the surly individual who acted as Antonio's lieutenant was never free from the haunting fear that he too might fall a victim to his leader, and it was seldom that he presumed upon his position. At this very moment he sat back in his saddle, staring fearfully at the squat figure of the Italian, while one hand instinctively slid towards the pocket which held his revolver.

"You heard," came the sharp question from Antonio. "I said you were a fool, and now I think you a bigger one, for your hand is near your revolver, while, if you will only look, my weapon is within an inch of your face. There, feel it!"

The cold ring of steel touched the gaucho's forehead, sending a shiver through his frame and causing him to start back. Beads of perspiration burst out on his face, while his hands trembled. For this Antonio was marvellous.

"Preserve us!" he murmured with quivering lips. "The man sees like a cat. Señor, I am at your mercy."

"As you will always be," was the answer, given this time in softer tones. "Antonio Sarvisti is not the man to be played with, and if he makes one of his band a lieutenant, with higher wages and a bigger share of the booty—a bigger share, mind you, amico,—he expects greater obedience from that man. But there; we will not quarrel, you and I. Thank the fates that you are not in my shoes, and learn to understand that I have always a reason for every action. I could have shot you like a dog a moment ago, but then I should have alarmed the fools who are riding into our net. A reason, you see, amico. Then you will gather that I have something in my mind which causes me to order that these men shall be unharmed. Listen! If they are shot down and killed, and if afterwards I am successful in slaying my enemy in the estancia over there, the deaths of so many gauchos will arouse a cry throughout the pampas. The owners are already attempting to combine. They would gather their forces at once, and it is likely that information would reach them that it was on this estancia that the trouble had commenced, for one of these men might escape. Now, do you see my meaning? You would raise a hornet's nest about us. Secure these gauchos, kill this Mr. Blunt, and I warrant that within a month our captives will take service with us. There, silence now! The fools are getting near."

Dudley and his men were indeed within a short distance of the forest line by now, and it looked as if they would ride right into the trap which had been set for them without taking any precautions. But, suddenly, as the rascals within stared out from the shadows, they saw our hero lift his arm above his head and bring the band to a standstill. Almost at the same instant a shrill whistle sounded away on the right, a signal which all knew came from Pepito.

"Something wrong, I think," said Dudley to Harold, who rode up to his elbow. "I called a halt here as I could see no easy way into the forest. Everything looks so black ahead that I thought it wise to send a man to search for an opening. And now Pepito gives a whistle. What can be the reason?"

They sat their horses there, uncertain how to act, and never dreamed that within a few yards of them, hidden beneath the dense shadow and the foliage, Antonio Sarvisti and his men lurked unseen. Not a whisper reached their ears, though a minute later one of the gauchos spurred his horse to our hero's side and warned him that he had heard movements in the forest.