Frank at Don Carlos' Rancho

by Harry Castlemon

There were half a dozen Rancheros in the court, besides those who had been conversing with the Spaniard, and Archie’s sudden appearance created a great commotion among them. They ran about in every direction, some shouting for their pistols, and others calling for their lassos; but not one among them was daring enough to attempt to stop him. They might as well have tried to stop a locomotive or a steamboat. The horses bounded across the court with terrific speed, and nothing short of a rifle-ball or lasso would have checked them. Archie’s face was very pale, but it betrayed not the slightest sign of fear. It wore a determined, reckless look, and it was easy enough to see that he was not to be daunted by any obstacles or dangers he might find before him. He would have remorselessly run down all the herdsmen on the rancho, if they had placed themselves in his way.

Archie thought now that his escape was but a question of time—of seconds; but there was one obstacle in his way that he had not calculated upon, and that was the gate. When he came in sight of it, what was his dismay to find that it was closed! The heavy oak bars were in their places; and the gate was so well secured, that before he could dismount and open it, the yelling, angry Mexicans, who were closing in from all sides, would be down upon him in a body. He was cornered—caught. His desperate plan for escape, which had been so brilliantly commenced, and which at first promised to succeed even beyond his expectations, had resulted in utter failure. He wished now that he had remained hidden in some of the underground rooms until dark.

The horses stopped when they reached the gate, and Archie turned in his saddle and took a survey of the situation. The court was filled with men now—for the most of those who had been searching the passage-ways had come up—and they were all running toward him, swinging their lassos, and brandishing their knives and pistols as if they intended to use them as soon as they could get their hands upon him. A more ferocious looking set of men he had never seen.

Had Archie been placed in this situation a few months before, it is probable that he would have been frightened out of his wits, and that he would have surrendered without making any further attempts at escape. But he had been the hero of some exciting adventures since he left Lawrence, and, to some extent, he had become familiar with danger. Besides, he was naturally brave and resolute, and believing from the actions of his enemies, and the expression he saw in their faces, that it was their intention to take a summary vengeance upon him, he resolved to fight for life and liberty as long as he had strength enough to move an arm. He had nothing to gain by surrendering himself into the hands of the Mexicans; he might gain every thing by resisting them to the last.

“Now, dis ish all right!” yelled the Don, when he saw Archie hesitating at the gate, and his men closing around him. “We have got dis leetle poys. Hi! Bedro, vat you makin’ dere? Ah! Mine heavens!”

The change in the old Spaniard’s tone was caused by an action on the part of Archie, which astonished every body in the court. Dropping Roderick’s bridle, he suddenly wheeled his horse and dashed furiously toward the Rancheros, who scattered before him like a flock of turkeys. As he passed through their ranks, several lassos were thrown at him; but Archie had learned how to avoid these weapons, and by lying flat along his horse’s neck, he escaped being pulled from his saddle. He galloped toward the nearest door, and without trying to stop his horse, threw himself to the ground, and disappeared in the hall like a flash. A few rapid steps brought him to the room to which the Don had conducted him on his arrival at the rancho. He did not stop to look for his cousin, for he knew that if Frank had been there, the confusion and noise in the court would have brought him out. He ran straight to the painting of the Indian warrior, pressed the button in the handle of the knife, and when the door opened before him, he dashed through and ran along the dark passage with reckless speed;—the smooth click of the spring-lock telling him that the picture had swung back to its place. He still had the bunch of keys, which he intended to preserve as a memento of his visit to Don Carlos’ rancho, and his object now was to reach the room adjoining the stable, and lock himself in. He concluded, from something Beppo had said, that there was but one set of keys to all these rooms; and he had the satisfaction of knowing that if that was the case, the robbers could not capture him until they had cut down every door in the rancho. He would retreat as they advanced, locking all the doors behind him; and when at last he was brought to bay, he would use his revolver.

The passage was so dark that Archie could not see his hand before him; and how he ever got down the stairs without breaking his neck he did not know. He accomplished the descent in safety, however, and there his good fortune ended. As he jumped into the passage at the foot of the stairs, he came in violent contact with some one who instantly seized him and held him fast.

“Who’s this?” demanded a gruff voice.

“Santa Maria!” cried Archie.