Archie recognized the voice which addressed him, and knew who his antagonist was. He was one of the mutineers—the same who had given him the keys, and who had shaken his fist at him as he was leading out the horses. Supposing Archie to be Beppo, he had loitered about in the passage awaiting his return to the stable, intending to take an ample revenge upon him. The horses not being on hand at the right time, the plans of the mutineers were completely upset; and of course they were highly enraged.

Although Archie was greatly astonished and alarmed at finding himself thus unceremoniously assaulted, he comprehended the situation in an instant, and acted accordingly. He knew that as long as the man supposed him to be Beppo, he would use nothing but his rawhide on him, and Archie thought he could stand that; but, if he made himself known, the Ranchero would drop his whip, and resort to his knife, and that was something Archie could not stand. When he uttered Beppo’s favorite expression, he exactly imitated his voice; and the man, believing that he had got hold of the right one, clung to his collar, and belabored him most unmercifully with his rawhide.

“Santa Maria!” yelled Archie, smarting under the blows, and writhing like an eel in the strong grasp that held him.

“You’ll fool me again, will you?” said the Ranchero, with grim satisfaction. “You’ll break your promise, won’t you? Why didn’t you bring up those horses? How does that feel, you rascal?”

The sensation was by no means an agreeable one. The herdsman, who was a powerful fellow, showered his blows with all his strength, and his victim struggled in vain to escape from his clutches. Then he tried to slip out of his jacket; but the Ranchero detected the move, and shifted his grasp from Archie’s collar to his hair. The torture soon became almost unbearable, and Archie was more than once on the point of losing heart and crying out; but just at the right time his courage came again to his aid, and shutting his teeth firmly together, he braced his nerves, and took the punishment without a murmur. But he did not cease his struggles. He ducked his head, and jumped and squirmed about in a way that made it extremely difficult for his antagonist to hit him; but if he escaped one blow, the next one he received came with redoubled force; and becoming satisfied at last that it was the man’s intention to whip him to death, he grew desperate, and did something that ended the battle in an instant. Thrusting his hand into his pocket, he drew out one of the long, heavy pistols which he had found on the table, and grasping it by the barrel, he struck his enemy a blow in the face which felled him like an ox under the ax of the butcher. In falling, he pulled Archie to the floor with him, but he did not hold him there, nor did he attempt it. He raised both hands to his head, and set up a roar that awoke a thousand echoes in the passage; and Archie, finding himself at liberty, scrambled to his feet and ran for life. He did not know where or in what direction he was going, nor did he give the matter a moment’s thought. His only desire was to get as far away from his antagonist as possible, and to conceal himself in one of the rooms. He would have given something now to have had a lantern, for it was far from being a pleasant thing to stumble about in that intense darkness, through those unknown passage-ways. A light might have discovered him to his enemies, but he told himself that he would much rather run that risk, than be continually harassed by the fear of running against some of the band before he knew it, or of falling through some secret trap-door. But luck was on his side. There were no trap-doors in his way, and the robbers were all up-stairs, overturning every thing in their frantic search for him. He groped his way along with all possible speed, and finally, believing himself safe from pursuit for the present, he stopped to take breath, and to determine upon his future course.

What was to be done now? that was the question. He was in a bad scrape, and could see no way to get out of it. He rubbed his aching shoulders, and thought of the remark he had so often made since his adventure with Pierre and his band—that he did not care to remain longer in California, because the fun and excitement were all over. He thought differently now. He had had plenty of excitement during the day, much more than he wanted, but he had not seen a great deal of fun. Bruised and battered, smarting in a hundred places from the effects of the beating he had received; surrounded by a net-work of secret passage-ways and caverns, among which he was as effectually lost as though he had been in the heart of the Rocky Mountains; in the midst of enemies who would show him no mercy if captured; his situation was certainly a disheartening one. He could not hope for assistance from his friends, for they were ignorant of his whereabouts. He and Frank had often camped out among the mountains for a week at a time, enjoying the fine shooting to be found there; and now the trappers, if they noticed his absence at all, would probably think he had gone off on one of his hunting expeditions, and instead of making any attempt to find him, would leave him to return home when he got ready. Frank might be captured, confined in one of those rooms, and die a lingering death there, and no one would ever know what had become of him.

“I wish I had never seen or heard of California,” said Archie, bitterly, allowing himself for a moment to become utterly disheartened. “If I had only known that I was going to get myself into this miserable scrape, I’ll bet you that I would have let the robbers take my horse, and welcome. There they are!”

Archie’s soliloquy was interrupted by the sound of voices and footsteps. The Don and his men, having thoroughly ransacked the upper part of the house, were now beginning to search the underground portion. The noise grew louder, and the conversation more distinct, as the Rancheros approached, and Archie knew it was high time he was hunting up a place of concealment. Putting his hands against the wall, he groped his way along the passage until he came to a door. This he unlocked with one of his keys, and lifting the latch, he opened the door a little way, and listened. While he stood there, hesitating and afraid to enter, the Rancheros approached rapidly; and presently Archie saw the light of a lantern dancing along the passage. There were four men in the party, and they were coming directly toward the fugitive, who, knowing that there was but one way of escape open to him, stepped cautiously into the room and locked the door. Scarcely had this been done when the Rancheros hurried past, searching every-where for Archie, and little dreaming that he was so near, and that the door alone stood between them and him. He distinctly heard their angry words, and understood enough of their conversation to know that the events of the last half hour had greatly astonished them; and that, if he was captured, something terrible would be done to him. They passed out of hearing at last, and Archie drew a long breath of relief, and braced up his nerves to encounter any new perils that might be in his way.

There was one thing that had thus far kept him in a state of intense anxiety and suspense, and that was the fear of running into some terrible danger while he was roaming about in the darkness—something that would take him by surprise, and end his existence before he would have time to comprehend its nature. How did he know but there was a chasm yawning at his very feet; and that if he advanced a single step he would find himself plunging headlong to destruction? Or how could he tell but there were some of the band standing within reach of him, with their knives uplifted ready to strike? He took a match from his pocket, but hesitated to light it for fear that it might reveal some new terror. He knew, however, that he had nothing to gain by standing there inactive, and summoning all his courage to his aid, he drew the match along the wall; but, no sooner had the flame blazed up, so that he could distinguish objects about him, than he staggered back against the door with a cry of terror, and stood trembling in every limb. The single instant that the room was lighted up by the match, was enough to reveal to him a sight that filled him with horror—a familiar form, lying bound and helpless on the floor, and a wounded and bleeding face, which, save where it was reddened by the little streams of blood that had flowed over it, was as pale as that of the dead. But Archie, to his immense relief, soon found that his companion in trouble had plenty of life left in him. His body was battered and bruised, but his spirit was as undaunted as ever.

“Well, what are you doing here?” asked a voice, in tones of great amazement.

“Frank Nelson!” exclaimed Archie, scarcely believing that he was awake. He did not stop now to think that there might be some one else in the room—he did not care if there was. It was enough for him to know that his cousin stood in need of assistance. He pulled his bowie-knife from his boot, and kneeling down by Frank’s side quickly relieved him of his bonds. His astonishment at finding his cousin there kept him quiet; but as soon as he had freed his arms, he greeted him as though he had not met him for years.

“What do you think now?” asked Archie, as he assisted Frank to his feet. “Don Carlos’ connection with the robbers is all in my eye, isn’t it? Didn’t I tell you that they kept Roderick and King James here, and rode them every night on their plundering expeditions? Well, it’s a fact. I’ve seen the horses.”

“You have!” exclaimed Frank.

“Yes, sir; and I’ve had hold of them. I’ve been on King James’s back, too; and I tell you it felt natural to find myself flying through the air once more, like a bird on the wing. I would have got them out of here, if the gate hadn’t been shut. I am afraid you can’t stand,” added Archie, who was holding fast to his cousin’s arm. “Your face is all bloody.”

“It is nothing serious. If I get a chance, I will show you that I am still able to beat the swiftest runner on the rancho in a fair race.”

“But you are trembling like a leaf,” continued Archie, anxiously. “If you are not badly hurt, what is the matter with you? Are you frightened?”

“Yes, I am. I wish we had never come near Don Carlos’ rancho.”

“So do I. I’ve wished that more than a hundred times during the last hour. We’ve got ourselves into a pretty mess.”

“And not only ourselves, but somebody else, also. We have thus far escaped with our lives, but he didn’t. He’s dead.”

“He! Who?”

“Dick Lewis.”

“Well—by—gracious!” exclaimed Archie, as soon as he could speak. “Why—how—Eh! It can’t be possible.”

“That is just what I thought, even while I was seeing the thing done,” replied Frank. “He was pulled down by a lasso; and the Mexican who caught him wheeled his horse and galloped off, dragging Dick after him. If his neck had been made of iron, it must have been broken.”

“But how did he happen to be around where the Mexicans were?” asked Archie, who could not bring himself to believe his cousin’s story. “Why didn’t he stay at home, where he belonged?”

“Why didn’t we stay at home where we belonged?” retorted Frank. “If we had done that, Dick would have been alive and hearty, now. He lost his life in trying to save me. But we have wasted time enough in talking. How did you get in here?”

“I don’t understand it at all,” said Archie, who could not have been more astounded and terrified if he had suddenly been knocked over by some invisible hand. “I shan’t go on that hunting expedition with Captain Porter, even if I do recover my horse.”

“If we don’t find some way to get out of this den of robbers, we’ll never have a chance to go with him,” replied Frank. “How did you get in here?”

“Didn’t you hear me unlock the door? I’ve got a key to every room in the rancho. Well! Well! I can’t get over that piece of news. I wish we had a light.”

“The men who brought me in here left their lantern,” said Frank. “We might look around and find it, but don’t you think it would be dangerous to light it?”

“We couldn’t be in a worse fix than we are in now. We don’t know how many miles of rooms and passage-ways we must travel through before we can get out of here; and I’d rather be discovered, and take my chances for escape, than to run the risk of breaking my neck before I know it.”

The boys threw themselves on their hands and knees, and began creeping about the floor, searching for the lantern. Frank found it at last, and when it had been lighted, Archie held it up, and took a good look at his cousin.

“I am sorry to see you here,” said he; “but since you are here, I am glad I have found you. What’s the first thing to be done?”

“Have you any weapons?” asked Frank. “These people don’t seem to think much of me, and if I am doomed to fall into their hands again, I want something with which to defend myself.”

“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?”

The man had bent over to examine his prisoners bonds, and for the first time discovered that he had been liberated. Astonished and alarmed, he acted upon his first impulse, and started for the door; but Archie was there before him. The Ranchero, who was wholly intent of making good his retreat, did not see him, however; and the first intimation he had of Archie’s presence, was a pair of strong arms thrown around his legs, which were pulled from under him, causing him to fall backward upon the floor. He struggled furiously, and opened his lips to shout for help; but, before any sound came forth, a hand grasped his throat, and the cry was effectually stifled.

ARCHIE AND FRANK’S FIGHT WITH THE ROBBER.
Chap. XI: page 177