“Here are both of them,” said Archie, who, having succeeded in finding a key to lock the door, now hurried up with a pistol in each hand. “Well—by—gracious! Pierre Costello!”
Archie was as much astonished at finding himself in the presence of his old enemy, as his cousin had been. He bent down and gazed earnestly into Pierre’s face, and then straightened up and leveled both his pistols at the robber’s head. “Why, Frank!” he exclaimed, “it’s he, sure enough.”
“I know it. This is not the first time I have met him to-night. Drop that knife,” he added, sternly, addressing himself to Pierre. “Now, stretch yourself out on the floor, face downward, and put your hands behind your back.”
The Ranchero, at this moment, did not act much like the reckless, desperate man he had appeared a short time before. The sight of the pistols took all the courage out of him; and he obeyed both Frank’s commands without an instant’s hesitation. The sash, which the latter wore around his waist, answered all the purposes of a rope, and Pierre speedily found himself as helpless as though he had been in double-irons.
The Don, in the meantime, had regained his feet, and stood watching all that was going on with a smile of great satisfaction on his face. The astonishment occasioned by the unexpected appearance of the boys, was, for the moment, lost sight of in the delight and thankfulness he felt at finding himself released from the power of his enemy.
“Now, dis ish all right,” said he, gleefully. “It’s petter you makes dat rope pooty fast, leetle poys. Ach! I fix you, Meester Bierre,” he added, shaking his clenched hand at the prostrate robber; “I makes blenty droubles for you, mine friend. Come mit me, leetle poys; I shows you de way out, now.”
Frank and Archie were not in the least surprised at this proposition. It was a part of their plan to compel the Don to guide them out of the rancho, and they knew that he would readily consent. They knew, too, that he was as treacherous as an Indian, and that he would bear watching. It was their intention to keep as close to him as possible.
“Go ahead, Don,” said Archie, taking the lantern from the table; “but bear one thing in mind, and that is, at the very first exhibition of treachery on your part, we will shoot you with as little hesitation as we shot Old Davy this morning.”
The chief earnestly protested that the boys need have no fears on that score. They had done him a great service in saving him from the knife of Pierre Costello, and he would repay it by showing them the way out of the rancho. Besides, he was not foolish enough to attempt any treachery, while those three loaded pistols were so near him. The boys listened to all he said, but did not believe a word of it. It was not reasonable to suppose that he would permit them to escape, when he knew that, as soon as they reached home, they would tell their friends every thing that had happened at the rancho. They were as well satisfied that he had some plan in his head, as if he had told them so; but they were resolved to watch him so closely that he would have no opportunity to carry it out.
When Archie picked up the lantern, the Don started toward a door at the farther end of the room, which, upon being opened, revealed a narrow stone stairway leading up to the rooms above. As they were about to ascend these stairs, a loud crash in the adjoining room, followed by a chorus of hoarse yells, told the boys that the Rancheros had at last succeeded in cutting down the door. The Don would have stopped to inquire into the cause of the disturbance, but his companions pushed him on; and while Frank watched him to see that he did not escape, Archie overhauled his keys until he found one that would lock the door. This done, the Don led the way up the stairs, the boys following close at his heels.