A race ensued at once. Bob was as fleet as the wind, but he was wearied with his night’s travel, and the pursuers, mounted on their fresh horses and led by Silas Roper, who coiled up his lasso as he went, gained rapidly. The white horse disappeared in a thickly wooded ravine; but Silas and his party soon came up with him standing motionless in the path, and Pedro was seen darting into the bushes which lined the base of the cliff. An order to halt, followed by the whistle of a lasso and the ominous click of three revolver locks, brought him to the path again, where he stood holding his hands above his head in token of surrender. Silas and Romez dismounted, bound the prisoner hand and foot, and after concealing him behind a log that lay at the base of the cliff, the party resumed its journey as if nothing had happened, Fred leading the white horse. As this incident had been confidently looked for, it brought no comments from any one except White-horse Fred, who said, as he resumed his place by his brother’s side:
“If Pedro had had half the sense I have given him credit for, he would have known that an iron nag couldn’t stand sixty miles in a full gallop over such roads as these. I hope Bob will recover a little of his wind before we reach Hale’s, for I want to use him then. When we caught sight of Pedro,” he added, “I was about to remark that I had finished what I had to say, and would listen to you. Now, tell me all about yourself. I know you have seen some exciting times.”
Julian’s story was quite as interesting to Fred as the latter’s story had been to Julian. It took him fully half an hour to complete it, and by that time they were in the vicinity of Hale’s rancho. When they reached the chasm which had been such a terror to Julian, they dismounted, and after a short consultation had been held, and Fred had exchanged his red shirt and coarse trowsers for his brother’s natty Mexican suit, he placed himself at the head of the party, and conducted them on foot to Major Mortimer’s prison. As noiselessly as spirits they approached the building and drew up around the door. Not a whisper was uttered, for their plans had been thoroughly discussed, and each one knew just what he was expected to do.
Having seen his companions stationed to his satisfaction, Fred crept back along the path again, and disappeared in the darkness. He was gone nearly half an hour, and then the sound of horse’s hoofs on the hard path told his impatient friends that he was returning. Louder and louder grew the clatter of the hoofs, and presently Julian knew that it had been heard by the robbers, for there was a movement in the cabin, and a small window beside the door, close under the eaves, was slowly and cautiously opened. In a few seconds the horse and his rider appeared dodging about among the thick bushes that grew on each side of the path, and drew up before the door. Fred’s whistle met with a prompt response.
“Ay! ay!” exclaimed the man at the window. “What’s the matter now? Anything wrong?”
“I should say there was,” replied Fred in a voice that trembled with excitement. “The soldiers have sprung a trap and caught every soul of us in it except the captain and me. There isn’t a gentleman of the road left down our way—not one.”
The robber expressed his surprise at this piece of news by a volley of oaths and exclamations that made Julian wonder.
He opened the slide of a dark lantern, and allowing its rays to shine out of the window upon the young horseman, said:
“How can that be possible? Things were all right this morning—the captain said so.”