TAKEN FOR A RIDE

As they descended suspended like some kind of Christmas ornaments from the huge parachutes Austin had to keep on the alert that his companion came through the experience safely, but his mind was busy with various other matters as well. He could hear the plane that had set their own on fire circling above them and while he realized that for a time its pilot was forced to keep his distance he knew the man could have easily punctured their parachutes and riddled their bodies with bullets, but he did nothing of the sort, which did not seem in keeping with his former vicious determination to get them out of the sky. This was puzzling and something to be considered soberly.

The De Castro’s plane had shot down, buried its nose in the earth, and blazed so furiously for a moment that it lighted the vicinity in spite of the fog. Austin spilled air and saw that Mrs. Gonzalas did likewise so they would not land on the burning mass. They drifted past it, saw the brothers just a bit lower, and vague shapes wavered toward them, like arms reaching up. On the opposite side of the ruined airship was the bon-fire, but although Jim strained his ears to hear, not a voice reached him. He thought it might be possible that the campers were asleep, but that seemed hardly probable for surely the fusillade of shots above the valley must have been startling enough to have aroused the most sound sleeper.

The fact that there was no sign of activity added to the boy’s anxiety. Surely if it were merely a coincidence that they were dropping on someone’s camp, that someone would be moving about in an effort to fathom the mystery of a battle in the air. Just then they began to settle below a grove of trees and Jim, whose eyes were on the ground, sent their bodies a few feet further to escape branches. In a moment they would be on their feet, and they were.

“That was fine. I saw a fire, so we are fortunate to have fallen near someone,” Mrs. Gonzalas said happily. Just then her husband succeeded in releasing himself from the chute and rushing to her closed her in a warm embrace.

“Mio, you are safe,” he choked, while his brother thoughtfully undid straps for the woman.

“That fire, we will investigate,” Arto suggested.

“With guns out,” Jim answered. “It seems queer to me that we were not fired on in the air and we were driven down right here.”

“Even so.” Arto had not thought of that and his gun came out.

“Got many cartridges—”

“You ain’t needin’ em,” a man’s voice drawled so close that the four turned quickly, but it was so dark they could barely see the white blur of his face. It seemed to the castaways that he was not alone and this was immediately verified.

“Touchin’ little scene of home,” said a second voice. “Sort of too bad not to let em finish their love-making.”

“Had to interrupt when they began to talk gats.”

“You guys best be reaching kinda high so your hands won’t get you into no trouble,” he ordered, and the three men raised their arms, while one of their captors relieved them of weapons, wallets, and shells. When that was finished, the first one gathered the things together.

“I’m waiting fer you, General,” he remarked.

“We’ll march ’em to the welcomin’ fire till we get the signal, Admiral,” the “General” answered, and the procession started over a rough way toward the spot they had seen through the mist.

“Guess you was never in such good company before,” the Admiral informed them. “Step easy here, cause there’s a ditch, lady.”

Wearily Jim fell in between the Gonzalas brothers, while the leader of the reception committee gallantly assisted the woman, who went forward with set face. Once a sob escaped her, but it was a small one, and she bravely controlled herself. Most women would have cried after such a heart-breaking series of disappointments. Presently they reached a large flat stone where the fire had been lighted and still blazed cheerfully.

“Right nice to have you folks drop in on us this way,” the Admiral remarked sweetly. “Ain’t no place in the world, no place where people are so neighborly as this here Peru.”

“Have a cup of coffee, Ma’m. It’ll warm you up plenty and the night’s still young.” He poured some of the steaming stuff into a tin cup and offered it to the woman, who accepted it promptly, for her teeth were beginning to chatter.

“The men, they too are cold,” she pleaded.

“Sure, sure, there ain’t nothin’ mean about us.” Another cup was produced and the three men drank. It revived their spirits greatly, and the hot black mixture warmed them up.

“Thanks a lot,” Jim said, then added, “What are you fellows going to do with us? These people have nothing to do with me—”

“Aw, we didn’t ask you no questions, did we?”

“We can’t tell yet, but we’ll know before long,” the General added.

“There it goes now—” They listened, then heard a series of distant shots, evidently from a small gun, spelling out some sort of code. It was none Jim recognized, but the men made notes on pieces of paper, and finally, when there was a pause, the general picked up a rifle which was near at hand, and fired three shots. A moment later the sound of the motor, which had been silenced during the exchange, boomed out again, and Austin knew that the machine gunner was on his way.

“Well now, ain’t that nice.” The men had their heads bowed over what they had written.

“You’re wanting to know what we’re going to do with you.” The General looked at Austin and leered. “Well, Buddy, we’re taking you for a ride.” Jim caught his breath sharply for he had read that among gangsters being taken for “a ride” meant nothing more than being killed.

“But these people have done—”

“Aw, you gotta suspicious nature, Buddy. We’re taking you for a real ride, in an ary-plane.”

“Them’s the boss’ orders. You kin rest yourselves ten minutes, then we’re startin’,” the Admiral volunteered, and the Flying Buddy gave a relieved sigh. They were probably being taken to the “Boss” whoever and whatever he was, and while there was no telling what fate had in store for them later, at least they were in no immediate danger of being bumped off.

“We ain’t tyin’ you up, or nuthin’ like that, but we’re tellin’ you that these here woods is got a lot of Peruvian tigers scattered round in ’em and they ain’t tame cats. That’s only case you get a notion to do any runnin’.”

“Thanks,” Jim grinned. At least the pair did not appear to be so blood-thirsty as other members of the gang he had encountered, and this was something to be mighty grateful for.

The next few minutes were devoted to packing a roll of equipment into a pair of blankets, and with an eye to some possible future need, the General added the four chutes to the rest of the stuff. What food was left from their own meal was pressed on the prisoners, who ate it gratefully, especially Jim who felt as hollow as a gun barrel. At last they were ready to start, the fire was stamped out and the charred coals scattered, but as he stood waiting, the boy noticed a white mark on one of the nearest trees. The Admiral had a small flashlight which he used to see that nothing was left behind, then taking a larger one from his pocket, he started around the rock.

“Ladies first,” he nodded to Mrs. Gonzalas, who obediently fell in after the man. Jim came next, then the brothers, and the general brought up the rear.

Both the guards had their guns in hand, and a roll slung over their shoulders, but it wasn’t fastened in any way, so Jim decided they were not going very far. Probably to some nearby open space where the plane, or planes were waiting. If there was only one it would have to be pretty large to carry them all, and the boy wondered, as they proceeded through the black forest, if the machine or machines were the ones that had been used to chase him earlier that night. He thought it must be long after twelve o’clock, but he realized that things had happened in swift succession and had not consumed as many hours as they seemed to. The flashlight, one in front and the other behind, made weird shadows of their movements and cut a sharp trail through the woods. In five minutes they reached the foot of a cliff, and the Admiral made his way straight to a narrow trail which reminded Austin of cattle trails in Texas, and they began to climb. Soon they were on a stretch of table land, and from somewhere came the dismal howl of a coyote.

“Oh,” Mrs. Gonzalas shivered as the cry was taken up by other beasts, and she edged nearer to the men.

“You needn’t be afeard, lady, not of the noisy ones. Tigers and them other cats don’t make a sound, but if you see one watching you, then you got cause to shiver.” The Admiral threw the light of his flash around cautiously and soon Jim saw the wheels of a large plane. It did not look like any of those that had taken part in the attack, but he couldn’t be sure. As they drew closer he did not see any sign of a machine gun or a pilot, so he guessed that their captors were airmen.

“All aboard,” the General ordered softly, and presently they were in the small cabin of what looked like a transportation machine. There was plenty of room for the six of them, besides two extra seats. Behind the passenger section was a compartment evidently meant for baggage and into this the rolls were tossed carelessly.

“Show your tickets,” the Admiral invited quite as if he was conducting a party of tourists, instead of taking the group decidedly against their will to parts unknown. Jim thought of inquiring what their destination was to be, but changed his mind because he could hardly expect to be given an honest answer.

The Admiral took the pilot’s seat, while the General perched watchfully in the rear so that any move made by one of the prisoners could be instantly observed and stopped. His rifle stood near at hand and a business-like six-gun was in his belt. There was the usual “trying,” then the huge plane moved through the darkness, and as soon as its wheel lifted, all but a very small light was switched off in the cabin.

“You been real peaceful up to now,” the Admiral reminded them, “En here’s hoping your good judgment don’t lead you astray while we’re flyin’. There ain’t no tigers, but the guns is fer use, pronto.” He turned his attention to his job, and soon they were roaring through space.

The plane seemed to climb steeply, then curve, and Austin wished that his place was not in the center. If he could get a glimpse of the control board he could calculate something about the direction they were taking. Thinking about the huge plane he realized that with little light people on the ground would not observe that it was a big one, and unless there were other lights on the tail or underneath, the dim glow would make it appear as if it were a small machine. It seemed to the Flying Buddy as if they were making very good speed, and in a few minutes they were tearing along in a thick mist. They climbed again, and once they rushed into a storm. The wind blew furiously and rain beat on the fuselage. Mrs. Gonzalas, who was seated close to her husband, sunk her head wearily on his shoulder, and was soon asleep.

It was a mighty good thing that she could sleep, Jim thought. He would have liked taking a nap himself but he felt that he had to keep wide awake for an opportunity to escape might present itself and they would want to grab it while the grabbing was good. He could see Arto huddled low in his coat collar and although the man looked as if he were dozing, the boy was positive that the former aviator was doing nothing of the kind. He too would be alert for a slip on the part of their captors which would change their present position, making the captors the captives. A flash of lightning cut through the blackness and then Austin was not sorry that he did not have the place at the controls as they tore through the storm. The plane climbed heavily and leveled off above the rain, then shot forward at an amazing speed.

The Flying Buddy made up his mind that this was no ordinary plane but a specially built machine with extra engine power. Probably it was the property of one of the chiefs of the gang, perhaps the leader or Boss himself, but glancing about, Jim changed his mind on that last score, for the Boss would be sure to have his personal machine more luxuriously furnished, with curtains, cushions, and shiny trimmings. He had no idea why he thought the Boss would do that but he had never read of a leader of gangdom who didn’t have a great deal of show and super-comfort in his surroundings. Once he closed his eyes, he couldn’t help it, and as he dozed he thought that the General in the rear was creeping up on them with a glistening knife, but when his eyes popped open he saw that his imagination was playing tricks on him, for the guard was exactly where he had taken his place at the start.

As well as the boy could tell they had traveled nearly half an hour when the speed was decreased somewhat, and then he realized they were circling in wide loops. Perhaps they had reached their destination, and a few minutes later he was sure they had, for the motor was throttled and the plane began to glide. They had either passed through the storm, or it was over, for there was no sign of it. Glancing through the nearest window he noticed that they were descending in what looked like a rugged section of the country. They must be in one of the spurs of the Andes. He thought he glimpsed something that might be a lake, then he could see nothing more and decided that they were coming down close to the earth and on both sides of them were steep wall-like cliffs.

Jim yawned and stretched high in his seat trying to get a look at the control board, but the Admiral, in making the landing, completely obscured it from his sight. Arto too indulged in a prodigious fit of deep breathing but he was no luckier than Austin in reading their location.

“You can all wake up,” the General informed them.

“Mio,” Pedro called to his wife, who opened her eyes, stared about her in amazement, then glanced at her husband. Her eyes filled with tears and she buried her face against his breast and began sobbing bitterly.

“Aw, come now, lady, that ain’t getting you no place,” the General protested.

“Better keep off the water-works,” the Admiral advised sharply.

“Be brave, querida mia,” Pedro whispered trying to comfort her, but she continued to cry as if she were going to have a spell of hysterics.

“Can that,” the General snapped. Pedro urged softly and in a few minutes the sobbing ceased. She dabbed her face with her handkerchief, and straightened her clothes.

“Mother of God,” she prayed tearfully.

“Listen, Bo, make her quit that or I’ll—give her something to pray over,” the General snarled and his fingers clutched his gun aggressively. If he thought to frighten Mrs. Gonzalas into silence he used the wrong tactics, for she shrieked out wildly, crying harder than ever.

“You would—” Arto flared.

“I say,” Jim interposed. “What do you want to scare her out of her wits for? No wonder she cried; waking up and seeing you.”

“You kin save your compliments—”

“If you want her to stop crying, stop doing things to make her,” Jim snapped angrily.

“You’re a big coward.” He turned to Mrs. Gonzalas. “Don’t you be afraid of him, or any of them, don’t let them throw a scare into you now! You just grin and pretty soon things won’t seem half so bad.” Jim didn’t like to see a woman cry, or a girl—anyone for that matter and he was mighty earnest about wanting Mrs. Gonzalas to dry her tears. He was standing beside her, and Pedro looked up at him with deep appreciation in his eyes.

“You are good—see Mio—Senor Jim Austin. In his land, the big Texas, he busts cows and broncs—wears a big hat to hold his head, and throws a rope so well Senor Bill Rogers goes out of business.”

“Oh, blubbering whales—say—when you come to Texas I’ll get Dad to show you how a lariat should be thrown,” Jim interposed. At their united efforts, Mrs. Gonzalas looked from one to the other, blinked rapidly and although her hand trembled on her husband’s arm, her lips parted in a smile. She controlled herself courageously, stifling the sobs, and out of the corner of his eye, Austin saw the guard step back as if satisfied that the prisoner would soon be comforted.

“In a large hat—big enough for your President—you look well,” Arto helped, but his hand was gripped in his belt and by the pressure of his fingers on the buckle they knew that he longed for the minute when he could get them on the throats of the men responsible for their difficulties and his sister-in-law’s suffering.

“Last stop,” the Admiral bellowed.

“All out.”

“Only they ain’t leaving without some decorations.” He produced clanking hand-cuffs. One pair he put on Pedro and his wife, and with the other he secured Jim and Arto together.

“Now you look more ‘folksy’. Get a move on.”

The manacles hampered them and as no more lights were turned on the four stumbled along the cabin to the low door. Jim lead the way, and had to stand on a brace while Arto came after him. Then the two jumped together, landing on something rather slippery, which Austin thought might be mossy stones. Pedro appeared almost immediately, for the Admiral was urging speed, so the two on the ground braced themselves to help. At last they were all out, and Jim glanced about him curiously. One thing he noticed, nothing seemed wet, so he decided that the storm had been a local and not a general one.

“You guys stay where you are,” the Admiral snapped authoritatively.

“I got a gun on ’em.”

They stood perfectly still a short distance from the plane, and Jim took a look at her. The design was quite different from any he had ever seen; she was especially trim, and although he could not see well, he made up his mind that she was twin motored. If he got a chance to examine her more closely he would know something about flying her in case they could break away from their captors. There was no chance of doing anything of the kind now for the Admiral had them covered with a brace of six-guns, but just the same, Austin wasn’t going to give up merely because of a pair of shooting irons.