A BORDER BOY ERRANT.

But the bullets which had been meant to terminate Jack’s career had not found their “billet.” Instead, his sudden fall to one side of the saddle was a quick acting out of an old cowboy trick. The instant that the first bullet had whistled by his ear Jack had flung himself down thus, and as a consequence, the shots had missed their mark. The relief of Walt and Ralph, as they came elbowing through the crowd to find that their chum was unhurt, may be imagined.

The incident, too, had quite changed the temper of the crowd, as such things often will. An unpopular monarch has often been turned into his people’s idol by an attempted assassination, and something of the same thing occurred now. Cheers for the American boy rang through the air. In the midst of the excitement Don Alverado came riding up, pressing his big chestnut horse through the throng.

“Thank the saints you are not injured, my gallant boy,” he cried in his impulsive way. “Not for my entire estates would I have had you even scratched. But what is this?”

The Don broke off in his congratulations abruptly, as a sudden commotion occurred on the outskirts of the crowd. Rising in his stirrups Jack could see that the center of the turmoil was Coyote Pete, and that he was dragging something at the end of his lariat, one end of which was wound around his saddle horn.

Suddenly the crowd rushed in on this object, whatever it was, but the next instant the wave of humanity surged back again, as Coyote drew two pistols and aimed them right and left into the throng.

“The first one that touches the varmint gits a taste of these!” he was shouting, and although few in the crowd could understand the words, they all caught the significance of his tones and fell back. Thus, left with a free path, Coyote spurred his horse on and rode up to where the Don and the Border Boys were assembled. The professor had, by this time, joined the group and brought word that Senorita Alverado wished to be informed at once of Jack’s condition, and if he had been seriously injured. Word was at once despatched to her that he was unharmed.

What Coyote Pete had at the end of his lariat was now at once apparent. It was a human being who struggled to his feet as the cow-puncher drew rein. Covered with dust as the man was, and bleeding from his not over gentle treatment by the first of the crowd who had rushed in on him, Jack yet had no difficulty in recognizing the man as the tall Mexican who had been defeated, and who had declared his intention of shutting out the American boy by fair means or foul.

“What is this?” demanded the Don, as the abject object stood cringing and whining before him.

“This is the pesky critter that fired them shots at Jack Merrill, your Donship!” announced Coyote. “Stand up thar, you dirty dog, and let ’em git a good look at you. Yer see,” he went on, “arter that hat was thrown at Jack, I was on the lookout fer dirty work, so I jest took up my stand near the tilting post, fer I judged thet if thar was truble it ’ud come thar. Wall, I seen this fellow miss and ther look on his face when he realized it. ‘Ole hoss,’ thinks I, ‘I’ll jes’ watch you close.’ Wall, I did, but afore I could stop him he fired them shots. Arter that he sneaked off in the crowd, but I got arter him with my lariat, and I reckon I got him good an’ tight and hog-tied for branding.”

The Don’s face grew black.

“I know this fellow,” he said, “he is a former employee of mine whom I discharged for quarreling and gambling. But this outrage will terminate his career. As a magistrate of this district, I convene court here and sentence him to——”

But with a piercing scream the abject being whom Coyote had lassoed cast himself on the ground. He writhed, he dug at the dirt with his nails, he grovelled and begged in an agony of terror. But the Don was unmoved. It was different with Jack, however. While the fellow’s cowardice disgusted him, at the same time he felt a faint sentiment of pity. At any rate, he did not wish human life taken on his account.

Just then a woman rushed through the crowd holding a child by each hand. Word flew around that it was the would-be assassin’s wife and children. This decided Jack. Pressing his pony forward, he rode to Don Alverado’s side.

“Don’t you think, sir, that leniency might be observed in this case?” he said. “The man’s wife and children, the excitement, the chagrin of losing the contest, and——”

“Say no more; say no more,” was the abrupt reply. In fact, at the sight of the man’s terrified wife and bewildered children, the Don himself had experienced a feeling of compunction, “Jose, your life is saved——”

The abject creature sprang up, pouring out a fulsome stream of thanks and blessings. But the Don abruptly checked him.

“Had it not been for your wife and children, and for the noble intercession of this young man whom you attempted foully to assassinate, I should have hanged you without loss of time. But their pleadings have had weight with me——”

“Oh, the blessings of the saints on the caballero’s head,——” began the Mexican, but once more he was cut short.

“But I only remit your sentence on one condition,” went on the Don, “and that is that you leave this part of the country forever. My overseer will supply you with the money. If within twelve hours you are in the neighborhood of Santa Anita, your life shall pay the penalty. Now go!”

The Mexican reeled to his feet, and, shunned by the crowd, tottered off. Only his wife and children clung to him.

“Strange that often the worst of men will have the most faithful wives and devoted children,” mused the Don. “But come,” he said, putting aside his momentary gravity, “do not let us mar the day by this incident. Senor Merrill, you will now proceed to the stand where your prize awaits you.”

At this the crowd set up a great cheer, and surrounded by his friends, Jack rode to the grandstand where the senorita, still pale, but radiant, presented him with the prize. Jack, crimson to the roots of his hair, stammered out something in reply, he never knew what; and then bending low he presented the lance tip on which the ring still reposed to the senorita. With a blush and a smile she took the ring and snatching a red rose from her hair affixed it to the point of his lance. What a shout went up then! And in the midst of it our party rode off, for the roping contest had been called.

“Say, where did you learn that trick, all that bowing and doo-dadds, and all that?” grinned Walt, as the chums rode side by side.

“Yes, old chap, you acted like a regular knight errant. Polite as a floor walker,” chortled Ralph; “there’s only one thing you’ve forgotten to do.”

“What’s that?” asked Jack innocently.

“Why, press the rose to your lips, you chump. I never read of any regular blown-in-panel knight who didn’t do that.”

“Well, I’m not one of that brand, I guess,” laughed Jack. But just the same, it may be set down here that he took particular care of that rose for many a long day.

To his chagrin, Coyote Pete only came off second best in the roping contest, but, as the boys remarked, “It wouldn’t do for these people to think we are hogs and want all the prizes.”

“That’s right,” agreed Pete, good humoredly, “an’, as somebody said, some place ‘thar’s glory enough fer all.’”

Early the next day after participating in the festivities of the evening, the lads and their elders once more took to the trail. In the meantime, the professor had attended to the renewing of their supplies and “scientific paraphernalia,” and they had decided to confide their adventures and the object of their quest to Don Alverado.

“You are on an adventurous mission,” he commented, “and I wish you all success.”

Before they set out the generous Don confided to Jack’s care a document in Spanish.

“If you fall in with any government officials,” he said, “that will act as your safeguard and passport. Adios, seÑors.”

“Adios!” shouted the boys, as they rode off. Jack, looking back in the early dawn, thought he saw a handkerchief fluttering from an upper window of the hacienda. At any rate, he waved his sombrero gallantly and bowed low.

“Guess it’s a good thing we got Jack away from the hacienda,” chortled Walt, in an audible tone.

“Guess it’ll be a good thing for you to maintain a discreet silence,” growled Jack, in what was for him such a savage tone that Walt looked rather alarmed. But before they had gone many miles Jack, who had been silent and thoughtful, began to become his old self once more under the influence of the trail and looked-for adventure.

They traveled that day without any incident worth chronicling, and nightfall found them camped on a fertile plain, deep in waving grasses and plentifully watered. The level expanse was almost at the foot of the gloomy Chinipal Range, in which was located the mysterious mountain in search of which they had journeyed so far. That night all lay down to rest with the feeling that the morrow would see the beginning of their real hard work.