BURT L. STANDISH Ultimate Collection: 24 Action Thrillers in One Volume (Illustrated) - Burt L. Standish

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are," replied Frank.

      "You pet my life," nodded Hans.

      "This is the guide who was recommended to you in Zacatecas?"

      "Yes."

      "You trust him fully?"

      "We are obliged to do so."

      "Wa'al, boys, ef this yere critter can't take yer straight ter Pacheco, nobody kin."

      "What do you mean?"

      "Jest this!" cried Bushnell, explosively; "this yere Greaser galoot w'at yer calls Pedro is nobody but Ferez!"

      "Who is Ferez?"

      "He's Pacheco's lieutenant!"

      Frank uttered a cry of amazement and anger, wheeling quickly on the Mexican, his hand seeking the butt of a revolver.

      But the dark-faced rascal seemed ready for such an exposure, for, with a yell of defiance, he dropped behind his horse, and the animal shot like a rocket from the firelight into the shadows which lay thick on the desert.

      Bushnell opened up with a brace of revolvers, sending a dozen bullets whistling after the fellow, in less than as many seconds.

      At the first shot, Hans Dunnerwust fell off his horse, striking on his back on the sand, where he lay, faintly gurgling:

      "Uf you don'd shood der odder vay, I vos a tead man!"

      "Don't let him escape with a whole skin!" shouted Frank, as he began to work a revolver, although he was blinded by the flashes from Bushnell's weapon so that he was forced to shoot by guess.

      Ferez seemed to bear a charmed life, for he fled straight on into the night, sending back a mocking shout of laughter. From far out on the waste, he cried:

      "Bah, Gringo dogs! You cannot harm me! I will see you again, Americanoes. This is not the last."

      With an angry exclamation of disappointment and anger, Bushnell flung his empty revolvers on the sand at his feet.

      "Dern me fer a fool!" he roared. "Ef I'd done my shootin' first an' my talkin' arterward, he wouldn't got away."

      But Ferez had escaped, and they could only make the best of it.

      When this was over and the excitement had subsided, they sat about the fire and discussed the situation. Frank then showed the golden image which Burk had given him, and explained how the dying man had told of the Silver Palace.

      Bushnell listened quietly, a cloud on his face. At the conclusion of the story, he rose to his feet, saying:

      "Ef Jack Burk made you his heir, thet goes, an' I ain't kickin' none whatever. Old Jack didn't hev no relatives, so he hed a right to make any galoot his heir. But thar's goin' ter be plenty of worry fer anybody as tries ter reach ther Silver Palace. How'd you 'spect ter git 'crost ther chasm?"

      "As yet, I have not taken that into consideration. The kidnaping of Professor Scotch has banished thoughts of everything else from my mind."

      "Wa'al, ef Jack Burk made you his heir, you're entitled ter your half of ther treasure, providin' you're ready ter stand your half of ther expenses ef we fail ter git thar."

      "You may depend on me so far as that is concerned."

      "Wa'al, then, you see I hev three hawses. One is fer me ter ride, another is ter kerry provisions, and ther third is ter tote ther balloon."

      "The balloon!"

      "Thet's whatever. I hev another balloon with which ter cross thet thar chasm. It's ther only way ter git over. In crossin' ther balloon will be loaded with a ballast of sand; but when we come back, ther ballast will be pure gold!"

      CHAPTER IX.

       THE PROFESSOR'S ESCAPE

       Table of Contents

      They did not expect to reach Huejugilla el Alto without being molested by bandits, for it was presumed that Pacheco's lieutenant would carry the word to his chief, and the desperadoes would lose no time in moving against them.

      Knowing their danger, they were exceedingly cautious, traveling much by night, and keeping in concealment by day, and, to their surprise, the bandits made no descent upon them.

      Huejugilla el Alto proved to be a wild and picturesque place. Being far from the line of railroad, it had not even felt the touch of Northern civilization, and the boys felt as if they had been transported back to the seventeenth century.

      "Hyar, lads," said Bushnell, "yer will see a town thet's clean Greaser all ther way through, an' it's ten ter one thar ain't nary galoot besides ourselves in ther durned old place thet kin say a word of United States."

      The Westerner could talk Spanish after a fashion, and that was about all the natives of Huejugilla el Alto were able to do, with the exception of the few whose blood was untainted, and who claimed to be aristocrats.

      However, for all of their strange dialect and his imperfect Spanish, Bushnell succeeded in making himself understood, so they found lodgings at a low, rambling adobe building, which served as a hotel. They paid in advance for one day, and were well satisfied with the price, although Bushnell declared it was at least double ordinary rates.

      "We ain't likely ter be long in town before Ferez locates us an' comes arter his hawses. Ther derned bandits are bold enough 'long ther line of ther railroad, but they lay 'way over thet out hyar. Wuss then all, ther people of ther towns kinder stand in with ther pizen varmints."

      "Stand in with them—how?"

      "Why, hide 'em when ther soldiers is arter 'em, an' don't bother 'em at any other time."

      "I presume they are afraid of the bandits, which explains why they do so."

      "Afeared? Wa'al, I'll allow as how they may be; but then thar's something of ther bandit in ev'ry blamed Greaser I ever clapped peepers on. They're onery, they are."

      Frank had noted that almost all Westerners who mingled much with the people of Mexico held Spaniards and natives alike in contempt, calling them all "Greasers." He could not understand this, for, as he had observed, the people of the country were exceedingly polite and chivalrous, treating strangers with the utmost courtesy, if courtesy were given in return. Rudeness seemed to shock and wound them, causing them to draw within themselves, as a turtle draws into its shell. Indeed, so polite were the people that Frank came to believe that a bandit who had decided to cut a man's throat and rob him would first beg a man's pardon for such rudeness, and then proceed about the job with the greatest skill, suavity, and gentleness.

      Having settled at the hotel, Bushnell ordered a square meal, and, when it was served, they proceeded to satisfy the hunger which had grown upon them with their journey across the desert.

      Bushnell also took care to look after the horses and equipments himself.

      "Ef Ferez calls fer his hawses, I don't want him ter git away with this yar balloon an' gas generator," said the Westerner, as he saw the articles mentioned were placed under lock and key. "Ef we should lose them, it'd be all up with us so fur as gittin' ter ther Silver Palace is concerned."

      Frank expected to hear something from Pacheco as soon as Huejugilla el Alto was reached, but he found no message awaiting him.

      "Poor professor!" he said. "I expect he has suffered untold torments since he was kidnaped."

      "Yah," nodded Hans. "Uf Brofessor Scotch don'd peen britty sick uf dis vild life mit Mexico, you vos a liar."

      That night they were sitting outside the hotel when they heard a great commotion at the southern end of the town.

      "Vot vos dot?" gasped the Dutch boy, in alarm. "Sounds like dere vos drouple aroundt dot logality."

      "That's right," agreed Frank, feeling for his revolvers; "and it is coming this way as fast as it can."

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