“Father always said that Philip was a rascal!” soliloquized Ned, his rage for the moment getting the better of his terror, “and now I know he is one! He is a cattle-thief himself, and he and the rest are after the money-box! But how could Philip have found out that we had a money-box?” added Ned, as he recalled the fact that the cook belonged in the kitchen, and had probably never seen the inside of his father’s office; “and even if he had known all about the box, how could he have told his friends of it? He hasn’t been away from the house an hour at a time since he has been here.”
Ned might have kept on propounding to himself questions that he could not answer, but his thoughts were carried into other channels by the actions of the raiders, who walked straight up to the porch where Philip was standing, and entered into a whispered conversation with him. Ned could not overhear what was said, but he saw the cook turn toward the house and extend his hands in different directions, as if he were trying to give his friends (for such they undoubtedly were) some idea of its internal arrangements. Probably he was telling them where to find the office and the strong box. If such was the case, it took him but a moment to do it; and when the raiders had learned all they wanted to know, they stepped lightly upon the porch and followed Philip toward the open door. When they reached it, Philip pushed it farther open, stood on one side to allow them to pass, and the raiders filed in, one after the other, on tip-toe! Half their number had disappeared in the house, when all at once a deafening uproar arose. There was a fight going on in the hall. First there was a loud yell, that was evidently given by one of the servants to arouse his sleeping companions, and the yell was accompanied rather than followed by a crash which made Ned believe that the inside of the house was being torn in pieces. It was the report of a revolver. Another and another followed, and an instant afterward, the raiders, having failed in their efforts to surprise the inmates of the rancho, appeared in great confusion, crowding through the door in a body, and in their haste prostrating the cook, who was knocked off the porch to the ground. He lay for a moment as if stunned by the fall, and then sprang up and ran away with the rest.
The baffled raiders scattered in every direction, and taking refuge behind the outbuildings and lumber piles opened a hot fire on the rancho from their carbines. To Ned’s intense alarm two of them ran straight for the shed. He saw them coming, and ducking his head crept swiftly into the farthest end of the manger and crowded himself into the darkest corner. One of the men dodged behind a wagon, but the other dashed into the shed, jumped into the manger and taking up a position in the opposite end, scarcely fifteen feet from the trembling boy, fired his carbine at the door from which he and his companions had just been driven. Ned was almost ready to scream with terror, but knowing that his safety depended upon his preserving the strictest silence, he choked back the cry while it was trembling on his lips, and covering his face with his hands awaited the issue of events with all the fortitude he could command.
Fortunately the Mexican in the other end of the manger was so busily engaged in loading and firing that he could not take time to look about him during the very few minutes that he remained in his hiding-place. The inmates of the rancho defended themselves with spirit, and one of their number, becoming aware that there was an enemy in the shed, fired three shots from his revolver in that direction. Ned’s hair fairly stood on end as he heard the bullets crashing through the planks which formed the outside of the manger. The eccentric and hurried movements of the Mexican proved that he was no less embarrassed by them, and when the third bullet came in, striking closer to his head than the others, he uttered an exclamation in Spanish, and jumping out of the manger ran off to find a less exposed ambush. Ned was glad to see him go.
“I wonder what they mean by such work, any how?” thought Ned, who, frightened as he was, could not resist the temptation to get upon his knees and look over the top of the manger. “Haven’t they got sense enough to see that our fellows have the advantage of them, and that there is nothing to be gained by shooting at stone walls? There! I guess they are going now!”
Just then one of the band uttered a shrill whistle, and the firing ceased almost immediately. Ned looked to see them mount and ride away without loss of time, but the sequel proved that they were not yet ready to give up all hopes of handling the money in the strong box, if that was what they were after. The whistle was given to call the band together for consultation. They gathered behind the shed out of sight of the house, and one of them leaned against the boards so close to Ned that if the latter had pushed his finger through one of the cracks he could have touched him. The boy could hear their slightest whisper, but could not understand a word that was said, for they talked altogether in Spanish. They quickly decided upon a new plan of operations, and separated to carry it into execution. A portion of the band opened fire on the rancho again, and the others, having secured an axe, crept around to the opposite side and furiously attacked one of the doors; but the tough oak planks of which it was made resisted the blows of the axe until the herdsmen had time to run to the other side of the building and drive them away by firing through the loopholes with their revolvers. Then the attack was renewed on another door with the same result; finally, the Mexicans, growing discouraged, hurled a volley of Spanish oaths at the defenders of the rancho, which had about the same effect on them that their bullets had on the walls, and ran toward their horses.
Ned kept his eye on the thieves while they were crossing the yard, and was gratified to see that they had not come off unscathed. Three of their number were limping along with the assistance of some of their comrades, and a fourth was being carried in a blanket. Whether he was killed or badly wounded Ned could not tell. He saw them mount and ride away, and the last object that caught his eye as they passed out of sight was the stolen horse, prancing and curveting behind them, his white legs showing plainly in the moonlight.
CHAPTER X.
THE TWO FRIENDS.
The raiders were gone at last and so was the stolen horse. When the animal passed out of sight in the darkness, and the sound of his hoofs on the hard trail died away in the distance, Ned arose slowly to his feet, but sat down again in much less time than he had consumed in getting up. The intense excitement which had thus far kept up his strength was over now, and he was too weak to stand. He had never passed through such an ordeal before, and it was no wonder that he was terribly frightened. He wondered how he had lived to see the end of it.
“But it is an awful mean wind that blows nobody good,” thought Ned, making another effort to stand on his feet after he had rested awhile. “This one has brought good to me in that it has taken off the stolen horse. I thought I had got an elephant on my hands, and I am glad he is gone. It takes me out of a scrape very nicely. The Mexicans are the only ones who suffered by this raid. They didn’t get their hands on the safe, and four of their number were shot, which served them just——”