“I reckon you don’t speak to common fellers any more,” continued Dick, for it was he, notwithstanding that Frank had told his cousin, in such positive language, that he had seen him pulled down and strangled on the prairie. “You needn’t be so tuk back, youngster, ’cause it’s me, an’ ’taint nobody else.”

During the next few minutes the settlers, who were standing around, gained some idea of the strength of the affection the boys cherished for the trapper. They threw themselves from their saddles and actually embraced him; and while they remained at the rancho, they kept close at his side, clinging to his arms as though they were afraid some one might try to take him away from them.

“Why, Dick,” said Frank, as soon as he could speak, “I never expected to see you again.”

“Youngster,” replied the trapper—and, as he spoke, he drew himself up to his full height, extended his long arms above his head, and doubled up a pair of fists which looked as though they might have knocked down an ox—“we don’t look fur nothing else—me an’ ole Bob don’t—but to have our har riz by the Injuns some day; but you’ll never hear tell of one of us bein’ rubbed out by Greasers—mark that. Now, I’ve had more ’n one of them ar lariats over my head, but I never had one around my neck yet, an’ I never will. When I fight Mexikins, I allers look out fur them lassos, an’ when that feller slipped his’n over my head, I was ready fur him. I cut it with my knife quicker’n he could say ‘Gin’ral Jackson,’ with his mouth open. As I riz to my feet, I see that the other feller was purty clost to me, an’ I knocked him out of his saddle with my tomahawk, as clean as a whistle. Thar wasn’t but one left then, an’ he wasn’t no ’count, fur his lasso was ruined; an’, without that we’pon, a Mexikin aint a thing fur a ten year ole boy to be afeared of. He tuk to his heels, an’ so did I; an’ here I am.”

To Archie, who had fully expected to see the trapper again, alive and well, this story of his escape seemed probable enough; but to Frank, who had seen him, as he believed, powerless in the midst of his enemies, it seemed almost incredible. Many a time, during the next three or four days, it was noticed that he earnestly regarded the trapper as if he had not quite made up his mind that he was the genuine Dick Lewis after all.

“I say, youngsters,” said Bob, when the trapper ceased speaking, “I’ve found out what it was that skeered me so bad, that night.”

“An’ he was skeered at jest nothing at all,” exclaimed Dick. “I reckon the ole feller feels the least bit ashamed of himself. If he don’t, he had oughter.”

The trappers, followed by the boys and a few of the settlers, led the way to a recess in the wall opposite the gate. The only articles in this recess that attracted the attention of the cousins, were a huge roll of canvas, and a post which supported a locomotive lamp. The face of this lamp was not turned toward the court, but outward, toward the wall.

“I told you, youngsters,” said Dick, “that the walls of this yere rancho are five foot thick; and so they be, in every place except this. Right thar is a door. It can’t be seed from the outside, nor from the inside, nuther; but it’s thar.”

Frank knew there was a door somewhere about there, for he had followed the settlers through it; but he could not tell where it was now, for the wall appeared to be as solid there as any where else. The trapper knew where to look for it, however, and when he placed his hands upon the wall, one of the stones began to move. One end moved outward, and the other inward, showing that the stone worked upon a pivot in the center. The opening thus made was about six feet long, and a foot high.

“Humph!” exclaimed Archie. “I’d like to see a man on horseback go through that little hole.”

“Easy, easy,” replied the trapper. “I haint got done yet.”

The door was composed of at least a half a dozen stones (one above the other, some longer, and some shorter, in order to “break joints” in the wall), and when they had all been moved from their places, two openings were formed, the stones being in the middle of the doorway, one end pointing toward the creek, and the other toward the court. The space on each side was amply sufficient to admit of the passage of a horseman.

“You know ole Bob said, that arter them two fellers crossed the creek, they rid up the bridge of clouds, an’ went through the wall of the rancho,” remarked Dick. “Wal, they didn’t, ’cause they went in at the door. Bob swum the creek, an’ hunted high an’ low fur the door, but couldn’t find it; an’ that’s what skeered him.”

From the door, the boys turned their attention to the bundle of canvas before spoken of. It was neatly rolled up, and in the middle was a stick of round wood, to each end of which was fastened a small wheel, with a deep groove in the circumference. In each of these grooves was a rope, about the size of a clothesline, which was passed once around the wheel, and the longer end of which was coiled down on the ground, so that it would run out rapidly. The trappers pushed the canvas outside the door, made the shorter ends of the ropes fast to two rings in the wall, which seemed to have been placed there for that especial purpose, then gave the canvas a push, and it went rolling down the bank toward the creek. When it reached the water’s edge it had all run out, and of course it stopped. The strong breeze that was blowing gave to it a gentle undulating motion, and this it was that the old trapper had compared to the “rolling and tumbling of the smoke from the mouth of a cannon.” This was the bridge of clouds; and what a simple thing it was to have frightened a man like Bob so badly! The old veteran evidently thought so, for he leaned on his rifle and looked foolish enough. When the settlers had laughed at him to their satisfaction, he and Dick seized the ropes, and hauling in hand-over-hand, rolled up the canvas without going outside the door.

“Well! well!” exclaimed Archie. “Frank and I watched this thing as closely as ever two cats watched a mouse, and we couldn’t begin to see through it. It’s all plain enough now; but how about the boat?”

The trapper replied that he would soon show them all about that; and picking up a lantern, led the way into the underground portion of the rancho. After threading numerous passage-ways, and turning several corners, he ushered them into an apartment that might have been called the engine-room, for it contained the power that had propelled the flatboat so rapidly. It was not an engine, however, but a windlass, something like those used for moving houses. It was plain that it had been worked by horses, for there were prints of hoofs all over the floor.

The next thing was to find the boat; and that could be easily done by following the rope which was attached to the windlass. The rope led them through a long narrow passage-way, and when they arrived at the end of it, Dick opened a small door, about the height of his head from the floor, and the boys climbed up and found the boat before them. It was snugly hidden in a little cove, which had been dug into the bank, and walled up with stones to prevent it from caving in. The mouth of the cove was so effectually concealed by thick bushes, that a fleet might have sailed along the creek without discovering it. In the bow of the boat was a bundle of canvas, like the one already described, only it was much smaller; and the ropes with which it was rolled up were attached to a horizontal windlass, so that they could be controlled by one man.

The trappers and some of the settlers followed the boys into the boat, and assisted them in pushing it out of the cove. Frank got out the oar, and sculled it across, and, when it reached the opposite shore, Dick seized the canvas and ran up the bank with it, the canvas unrolling itself as he went.

“It’s all plain enough now,” repeated Archie; “but it seems to me that the Don put himself to a good deal of trouble for nothing.”

“I think he managed affairs just about right,” said one of the settlers. “The object of this canvas is to conceal the trail. When my horses were stolen, I followed them very easily for a while, but lost the scent about a hundred yards from the bank of this creek. That must have been the place where they got on the canvas. Of course they left no more trail, and I couldn’t follow them any farther.”

“But I don’t see why it is necessary to have this boat moved by a windlass,” said Frank. “If one man could bring it over here, what’s the reason he couldn’t take it back?”

“That can also be easily explained,” replied the settler. “The current in the creek is so strong that one man can’t scull the boat straight across. It makes no difference where he lands on this side, because he brings his canvas with him, and can put it out any where; but the canvas on the other side is stationary, you know, and the boat must be stopped at one particular place, so that the horsemen can get out on it.”

“Oh, I see,” said Frank.

“Thar’s another thing that mebbe the comp’ny would like to know something about,” said Dick. “Arter we come back from that bar hunt this mornin’, I went out to tend to some cattle, an’ seed these yere two keerless fellers go into Don Carlos’ rancho. I hung round watchin’ the house, ’cause I kind o’ thought that mebbe something was agoin’ to happen, an’ that’s the way I come to be in the woods when Frank an’ them Greasers had that race. An’ fellers,” added Dick, turning to the settlers, “I seed the hul of that ar runnin’ match, an’ I never in my life seed a boy pick up his feet quicker’n Frank did. I’ll match him agin any hoss in Californy. I was goin’ to say, that arter I got licked by them Greasers, an’ seed that Frank was ketched an’ tuk to the rancho——”

Frank, at this point, begged pardon for interrupting Dick, and told him that he had not then been taken to the rancho, but was carried to the mountains by Pierre Costello. This announcement created great excitement among the settlers, and it was increased wonderfully, when Archie said that they had left Pierre in the woods, a prisoner.

“Who tuk him pris’ner?” demanded the trapper.

“Archie and I, and Marmion,” replied Frank.

“Fellers!” exclaimed Dick, who seemed to be utterly confounded, “don’t this yere night’s work beat any thing you ever hearn tell on? If any of you know of two boys that can lay over them ar youngsters of mine, jest trot ’em out; I’d like mighty well to see ’em. But they haint been born yet, an’ never will be.”

The trapper pounded the ground with the butt of his rifle, gazed proudly at the boys, and went on with his explanation.

“I seed that Frank was ketched agin,” said he, “an’ knowin’ that I couldn’t do nothing more by myself, I rid hum an’ told ole Bob what had been goin’ on; an’ him an’ Carlos, an’ a few other herdsmen whom we knowed we could trust, set out to bring the settlers together, while I come back to watch the rancho. In an hour’s time we had a hundred men here in the bushes.

“The fust thing to be done was to study up a plan to get into the rancho. We knowed we couldn’t whip the Greasers while they were inside the house, an’ we outside—we must get inside too; an’ that could only be done by takin’ them by surprise. While we were talkin’ the matter over, up come two Mexikins b’longin’ to the band, who had been out somewhere stealin’ hosses. They run right among us afore they knowed it, an’ it was the easiest thing in the world fur us to captur’ ’em, an’ make ’em tell us all we wanted to know. Arter a leetle talk it was decided that me an’ ole Bob should take the place of the Mexikins, an’ go into the rancho; an’, that while we were goin’ in, the settlers should swim the creek, an’ get ready to make the attack. Me an’ Bob were to give ’em time to get clost up under the walls, an’ then open the door, an’ the settlers would rush in an’ make pris’ners of the robbers afore they knowed it.

“Wal, we swapped clothes with them ar two dirty Greasers—me an’ ole Bob did—mounted Roderick an’ King Jeemes, tuk the two stolen hosses by the bridle, crossed the creek on the flatboat, went up that ar canvas thing that Bob called the bridge of clouds, an’ rid straight into the rancho—just as though we had a right thar—an’ nobody didn’t suspect that we wasn’t real Greasers. We seed a few men arter we got into the house, but none on ’em had a word to say, or even looked at us. The fellers who hauled up the bridge shut the door an’ went off about their business, leavin’ me an’ Bob to ’tend to our’n; which we did, I reckon. We jumped off our hosses, an’ opened the door agin; an’ the settlers come pourin’ in. Every thing worked jest as we had planned it.”

There was one mystery that remained to be explained, and that was the signal made by the flag. The boys, afterward found out all about it from one of the prisoners. The robbers, knowing that they were not suspected, had become very bold; and horses which had been stolen at a distance, were not unfrequently brought into the rancho in broad daylight. The flag flying at the mast-head, signified that the coast was clear, and that the animals could be safely brought in. When the flag was not to be seen, it was understood that there were strangers about; and, in that case, the horses were concealed in the woods until dark, when they were brought in through the secret door.

During the next three hours the boys, in company with the trappers, explored every nook and corner of the rancho. Archie first led them to the stable, to show them his prisoner; but, when they got there, they found that Beppo was gone. He had been discovered and released by some of the band, and in the confusion attending the attack, had made good his escape. From the stable they went to the Don’s reception-room; and while they were examining the painting of the Indian warrior, Archie entertained them with a glowing account of his discovery of the spring, and the adventures which had resulted from it. After that they went to the secret room, from which they had made their escape through the scuttle, and spent an hour in trying to find the place where the Don had got out. But their efforts were unsuccessful; and being particularly desirous to have the mystery solved, they went in search of the chief, whom they found lying in one corner of the court securely bound. To their request that he would explain the matter, he replied that it was “one grand swindle,” and that was all they could get out of him. The manner of his escape from that room was a secret that never was revealed.

While the boys were thus engaged, the settlers and their herdsmen were busying themselves in removing various articles of value from the building, such as provisions, weapons, ammunition, and bales of goods; and at daylight a long string of wagons, and a longer string of mounted men, crossed the creek, and slowly wended their way toward the settlement. Just as the cavalcade entered the woods, huge volumes of flames burst from the doors and windows of the rancho, and in a few hours nothing but blackened and crumbling ruins remained to mark the spot whereon had stood the robbers’ stronghold.

It was breakfast time when Frank and Archie reached home, but they went to bed immediately, and slept until long after midnight. When they awoke, they felt very sensibly the effects of the rough treatment they had received; and when Uncle James arrived two days afterward, he found them with their heads tied up, Frank with his arm in a sling, and Archie hobbling around with a cane. But then they had covered themselves with glory. They had shot Old Davy, and assisted in breaking up the robber band, and no general ever felt prouder of his victories than the boys did over these exploits. The story of their adventures is, however, not yet complete. According to arrangement, they accompanied Captain Porter on his trading expedition; and what they saw, and what they did while they were gone, shall be told in “Frank in the Mountains.”

THE END.

FAMOUS CASTLEMON BOOKS.

GUNBOAT SERIES. By Harry Castlemon. Illustrated. 6 vols. 16mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold.
Frank the Young Naturalist.
Frank on a Gunboat.
Frank in the Woods.
Frank before Vicksburg.
Frank on the Lower Mississippi.
Frank on the Prairie.

ROCKY MOUNTAIN SERIES. By Harry Castlemon. Illustrated. 3 vols. 16mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold.
Frank among the Rancheros.
Frank at Don Carlos’ Rancho.
Frank in the Mountains.

SPORTSMAN’S CLUB SERIES. By Harry Castlemon. Illustrated. 3 vols. 16mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold.
The Sportsman’s Club in the Saddle.
The Sportsman’s Club Afloat.
The Sportsman’s Club among the Trappers.

GO-AHEAD SERIES. By Harry Castlemon. Illustrated. 3 vols. 16mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold.
Tom Newcombe. Go-Ahead. No Moss.

FRANK NELSON SERIES. By Harry Castlemon. Illustrated. 3 vols. 16mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold.
Snowed Up. Frank in the Forecastle. Boy Traders.

BOY TRAPPER SERIES. By Harry Castlemon. Illustrated. 3 vols. 16mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold.br /> The Buried Treasure; or, Old Jordan’s Haunt.
The Boy Trapper; or, How Dave Filled the Order.
The Mail-Carrier.

ROUGHING IT SERIES. By Harry Castlemon. Illustrated. 16mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold.
George in Camp.

Other Volumes in Preparation.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by R. W. CARROLL & CO., In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

Famous Castlemon Books

No author of the present day has become a greater favorite with boys than “Harry Castlemon,” every book by him is sure to meet with hearty reception by young readers generally. His naturalness and vivacity leads his readers from page to page with breathless interest, and when one volume is finished the fascinated reader, like Oliver Twist, asks “for more.”

By Harry Castlemon.

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Horatio Alger, Jr., has attained distinction as one of the most popular writers of books for boys, and the following list comprises all of his best books.
By Horatio Alger, Jr.

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