“You must have had a terrible fight,” said Archie, again glancing at his cousin’s face; “and I should judge that you had come out second best.”
Frank shrugged his shoulders and felt of his head, but had nothing to say. Archie hesitated a moment before he spoke again. He was wondering who had got the worst of the encounter—he or the Ranchero. He had not quite made up his mind which was the most severe punishment—twenty-five or thirty cuts over the head and shoulders with a rawhide, or a single well-directed blow from the butt of a heavy pistol, delivered with the full power of an arm that was all muscle. After a a few seconds’ reflection, he decided that he would rather be in his own boots, than in those of the man he had knocked down; and that, taking all things into consideration, he could truthfully say that he had given the mutineer a good drubbing.
“I’ve just had a terrible whipping,” said Archie, “but I didn’t get the worst of the fight. I hit somebody a crack that he will remember for a day or two, I guess. I’ve got plenty of weapons—three pistols and a bowie-knife. Put this revolver in your pocket.”
At this moment the cousins were startled by a noise at the door—not the one by which Archie had entered, but another on the opposite side of the room. Somebody was trying to open it. The door was not locked, but it held at the bottom.
“We must run for it now,” whispered Archie. “We’ll go out at this other door; and by the time he gets in here, we’ll be safe in another hiding-place.”
Handing his lantern to his cousin, Archie pulled out his keys and began fitting one to the lock; but his operations were suddenly interrupted by the sound of voices and footsteps in the passage, telling him that the Rancheros, from whom he had escaped a few minutes before, were returning. Their retreat in that direction was cut off. The boys looked at each other in dismay. There were but two doors in the room, and while their enemies were at each one, which way should they go? The noise at the door grew louder. Some one was certainly trying to get in, and, what was more, he seemed determined to accomplish his object; for his pulls at the door grew stronger, and the boys could hear him grumbling to himself in Spanish because it would not open. It yielded a little with every pull, however, and it was evident that he would soon succeed in effecting an entrance. Archie drew his pistols, and looked to his cousin for advice.
“Put away those weapons,” said Frank, earnestly. “If you should fire one of them here, it would show our enemies where we are, and destroy our last chance for escape. Hide yourself, and blow out that lantern.”
Archie had barely time to act upon this suggestion, when the door flew open with a jerk, and looking over the top of a box, behind which he had crept for concealment, he saw a Mexican enter the room. By the light of the lantern he carried in his hand, Archie also discovered his cousin stretched upon the floor, his feet crossed, and his hands placed behind his back. The latter knew why the Ranchero had come in there.
“You’re safe yet, are you?” said the Mexican. “That’s all right. So many strange things have happened here to-night, that I should not have been surprised if I had not found you. Santa Maria! How’s this?”