The double dagger or, Nat Ridley's Mexican trail
"I wish that might happen," replied Nat Ridley. "But I'm afraid we'll
have a lot of trouble and be in some danger before that comes to pass.
These fellows are as cruel and relentless as their ancient Aztec
ancestors."
They pushed on to such good advantage after their rest, during which
Nat took occasion to ask his new friends to send word to the Times
Square office should the detective be killed and the others escape,
that when night came they were in a lonely region, where many trails
crossed and the cowboys gave it as their opinions that the pursuers
could never follow.
"They can't pick out which trail we took not even if they had a
detective like you, Mr. Ridley, to help them!" declared Ike.
"Not in a thousand years!" agreed Slim Jim Burke.
"So much the better for us," said Nat.
That night they slept in the barn of another Mexican farmer, for whose
benefit, should he be questioned later, they used false names and
talked of searching for a stray bunch of horses. At the farmer's house
they bought food and ate heartily.
The night was one of anxiety because, in spite of the confusion of
trails, it was possible that Don Castro and his crowd might come upon
them. Nat explained his previous encounters with this one of several
plotters, and also mentioned El Capitan.
"We've heard of him," said Ike.
"And no good, either," added Jim.
However, the night passed peacefully, and in the morning, after a
hearty breakfast and having purchased a supply of food to last for
several days, they again took the trail.
Several times at favorable places during the forenoon they stopped to
look back and also to listen, but they neither saw nor heard any signs
of pursuit and they began to feel that they had distanced their enemies.
It was just getting dusk when Slim, who was riding in advance, gave a
shout that sent the blood pumping faster into Nat Ridley's heart.
"What is it?" called the detective anxiously.
"Indian's Nose," was the reply. "We're there!"
A little later the three rode out on a mesa, which made a good place
to camp and also, because of the nature of the country, afforded a long
outlook to the south, whence pursuit, if any, must come.
"What's to the north?" asked Nat, as they prepared to camp for the
night in a little grove of trees.
"The jumpin' off place," answered Ike.
"He means the mesa ends there, and there's a high cliff as straight
as a chimney that drops down to the trail at the foot of the mesa,"
explained Jim.
"Oh," mused Nat. "Well, I hope we aren't chased off this plateau."
"Not much danger, I reckon," said Jim. "They won't find us here."
The night passed peacefully, and they were just finishing breakfast the
next morning when Ike, who had gone to see that the horses were all
right where they had been picketed, came running back, much excited and
shouting:
"They're coming!"
"Who?" asked Nat.
"Don Castro's gang or somebody he's sent after us! They're comin' up
the gully, and if we want to get past we've got to fight!"
Hardly had he spoken when around a bend several horsemen appeared,
many of whom carried rifles or shotguns. Not expecting the approach
of the enemy so soon, the three had not begun to keep a watch, and the
Mexicans had stolen up on them in the darkness of the early morning
hours.
The mesa, though elevated, was long and narrow, like a nose, after
which it was named, and the approach to the camping place of Nat
and the cowboys was through a gully, so narrow that not more than
three could ride abreast. Now this defile was fairly choked with the
approaching horsemen.
"What are we going to do?" asked Ike, as he saw the desperate nature of
their chances.
"Fight 'em!" snarled Slim Jim Burke.
"They'd wipe us out!" murmured Nat Ridley. "I'm no coward, as I guess
you know," he went on, while the others exclaimed:
"We'll say you aren't!"
"But it would be madness to ride at them in that narrow place," went
on the detective. "We might shoot our way through, but, more likely,
one or all three of us would be riddled. And I don't want to pass out
before I've saved that girl and made the Tola gang pay some of their
debts."
"Then what'll we do?" asked Jim.
"How high is that cliff?" asked Nat.
"Too high to jump down, and no pony could slide it," said Ike.
"I don't intend to jump, and we'll have to abandon the horses," went
on Nat. "But I guess it isn't too far to get over by using our lariats,
is it?"
"The ropes! By jingo, I never thought of that!" cried Ike.
"We can do it!" exclaimed his pal. "And they can't follow, for I don't
believe there's a rope in their outfit. They aren't cattlemen. By
thunder, Mr. Detective, you've struck it!"
"We'll go over the cliff!" exulted Ike.
"Fasten the ropes together then," advised Nat, drawing his automatic,
and dropping down behind a rock.
"What are you going to do?" asked Jim.
"Give 'em a few shots to hold 'em back until you can make ready," was
the answer. "If they rushed us at the last minute we wouldn't have a
chance. But I think the bushes will screen our movements until we are
ready. Hop to it now, boys!"
The cowboys ran to get their ropes from their saddle horns, and soon
came back with the three lariats. Ike stopped in his tracks and
exclaimed:
"But look here, Mr. Ridley! We got to shinny down these ropes, you
know! Nobody can't lower us. And when the last man is down the ropes
will still be hangin' to whatever we fasten 'em to."
"That's so," added Jim, for a moment discouraged. "I never thought of
that. We'll have to leave the rope for these devils, an' they'll come
down after us."
"No they won't!" declared Nat. "We'll use a double rope, putting the
turn of it around that stunted tree on the edge of the cliff. When we
are all three down we'll pull one end of the rope and it will slide off
and fall down. We won't leave any for them to use."
"By thunder, I never thought of that!" gasped Ike. "Come on, Slim!"
A moment later the two were preparing the way of escape over the cliff
while Nat Ridley, kneeling behind a clump of bushes amid the rocks,
began firing on the horsemen who were urging their steeds up the rocky
defile.
Could he hold them back long enough? That was what Ike and Jim were
wondering as they hurriedly knotted together the three strong lassoes.
CHAPTER XXI
A SHOT IN TIME
Nat Ridley's shots in the direction of the advancing Mexicans had
hardly ceased rattling amid the rocks of the defile on top of the mesa
when the detective hastened toward the edge of the cliff whereon grew a
single stunted tree, but strong enough for the ropes to be looped over,
thus supporting the men as they went down hand over hand.
"Are you ready?" asked Nat as he saw Jim, who had been kneeling beside
his chum, arise.
"Just got 'em all hooked up," was the answer.
"How about you?" asked Ike. "Did you hit any of 'em?"
"A few, I think," answered Nat grimly. He spoke the truth, for his
bullets had found marks, bringing to their knees several of the Tola
gang, though the sleuth fired to wound and not to kill.
"Snap into it now!" cried Ike. "We haven't any time to lose."
"That's right!" agreed Jim. "They're coming!"
Indeed, down the defile could be heard the ringing of the steel shoes
of the horses on the hard rocks.
But by this time the combined lassoes were rigged and, by leaning over
the cliff, it could be noted that they extended in a double line to the
bottom where a road wound off through the trees and bushes.
"Who's to go first?" asked Slim, as the three paused for a moment on
the edge.
"Let Mr. Ridley," suggested Lazy Ike, with his usual drawl. It was
noticed that since Nat had revealed his identity the cowboys, having
learned who he was, were much less free and easy with him.
"Sure--he goes first!" agreed Jim.
"No," objected Nat. "Without wanting to boast, I may say I'm a better
shot than either of you. So if it comes to a rush I can pick off more
with my automatic than you can with your guns," and he slipped another
full magazine in his weapon.
"There's truth in that," said Ike. "Well, then, Slim, it's between you
and me."
"Snap into it!" ordered Nat. "Here, you go first," he ordered Slim
Jim, as being the faster of the two. "Then Ike can slide down and I'll
follow. Quick!"
The others were willing to abide by the detective's decision and a
moment later the languid cowboy was hanging to the lariats and had
slipped over the edge of the cliff. He went down quickly, and his chum
was half way to the bottom when the nearer approach of horses and the
sound of voices told Nat that the Mexicans were coming on fast.
"Hurry!" advised Nat, and Ike went so fast he blistered his hands, hard
as they were.
Nat Ridley, thrusting his automatic into a fold of his coat, to have it
in instant readiness, now began the descent. As his head and shoulders
disappeared below the edge of the cliff, the first of the pursuers came
into view.
"There he is! The dog! The pig!" cried someone in Spanish-accented
English.
"Ah, there spoke Don Castro, or I am mistaken!" chuckled Nat.
Suddenly, after having lowered his head over the rim of the cliff, the
detective raised himself again, holding on by one hand and by twisting
the ropes around his legs. Then he sent several shots into the ranks of
the Mexicans, making a hit with each report.
There were yells of rage and cries of pain, and having thus forced the
advancing horsemen to a temporary halt, Nat began the descent.
"Stop him! Get the pig! Cut the rope!" yelled Don Castro.
But before this could be done Nat had reached the end of the lariats
and had joined Ike and Jim, who stood anxiously waiting.
"Did they shoot at you?" asked Jim.
"No, I peppered them," answered Nat.
He pulled quickly on one side of the double rope, thus slipping it
loose from around the anchoring tree, and as the free end rose, the
face of a Mexican appeared at the top of the cliff and his hands made
an endeavor to snatch the combined lariats before they could fall. It
was evident the pursuers had no ropes of their own to use in making the
descent.
But Nat, with a quick jerk, pulled the lassoes off the tree, and the
coils fell at his feet. Then, calling to Ike and Jim to run on, the
detective took a shot at the man above him. A howl of pain succeeded
the crack of the automatic and the sleuth knew he had clipped his man.
Two Mexicans shot in return, but nobody was hit.
"We're safe now for a time," remarked Ike, with a sigh of relief.
"I hope so," assented Nat. "But where are we going?"
"We can't go far without horses," remarked Jim with a sorrowful air. "A
cowboy without a pony is like a sailor without a ship."
"We may be able to pick up something to straddle before very long,"
said Nat. "I'd be very glad to buy some extra horses if we could find
them."
"Gee, you're a sport!" vowed Ike.
"This is business," declared the sleuth. "What are our chances?"
"Well, we may strike a ranch where we can get three broncos," said
Slim. "But they won't be much good. No worse, though, than the nags
on which they've been riding after us. Gee, I sure do hate to lose my
pony!"
"I'll see that you get another," promised Nat. "But if we have to walk,
aren't we likely to be overtaken by those fellows, even if they have
very poor horses?" he asked.
"I'm not worrying about that," declared Jim. "There's no trail down off
the mesa short of half a day's ride, and they aren't going to try the
cliff, I guess. No, we're safe for a time."
Then the three began walking along. They were soon lost to view in
a grove of trees so that there was no danger of those on the cliff
shooting at them, and then they plodded on.