"You bet I will," he assented feebly, but with invincible determination. "What are you holding me for, Jim? Let's get at those fellows." It was evident that his mind was not exactly clear yet. They got him on his feet and he seemed better, though still very wabbly.

"There come those fellows," cried Jim, suddenly, with more of despair in his tone than he had ever spoken before, no matter how hard pressed they had been. But before there had always been something to do, but now they were helpless. Jim looked hastily around for some weapon. All he found was a small round stone.

With a yell of exultation, Jack Cales and the mate dashed down upon them, followed by the Captain and old Pete. They had been able to follow the distinctive mark of the mule's shoes in the soft earth until they came in hearing of the boys' voices. Then they jumped upon them. They were out for blood this time, for they had the boys' revolvers in their hands, probably because they were better than their own.

Missouri, finding himself free, made off. Tom halted when covered by one of the sailor's revolvers, but Jim dodged as the mate fired at him. The lug of lead spattered the mud between his feet, the next second he was off full speed through the fog, followed by fleet Jo.

The sailors soon gave up the useless chase, for there was no trail to guide them, so they had to content themselves with half of their original capture and they started for the cove where the Sea Eagle was anchored as fast as they could go, though they were hampered by Juarez.

"Better leave him, Captain," urged old Pete. "He is nothing but a nuisance."

"I'll have use for that fellow yet," said the Captain. "As for the other lad, he won't feel so lively after a few days on shipboard."

This did not have a very cheerful sound for Tom and he was in anything but a happy frame of mind. Still he had great confidence in Jim and did not give up hope of being rescued before the coast was reached. It was now getting towards daybreak, and the fog began to lift somewhat so that they could see a distance of thirty or forty yards.

Captain Broom's gang had now left the region of the level pasture and were coming to the brush section, fringing the coast, and beyond that they reached the sand dunes. The nearer they came to the sea the more depressed Tom became. The only thing that encouraged him was the fact that Juarez began to seem like himself.

Let us now return to Jo and Jim, who had been so fortunate as to make their escape. As soon as they were sure that the pursuit was at an end, they slowed down to a walk.

"Well, they didn't give us much of a chase," remarked Jim.

"Plenty to suit me. What are we going to do now?"

"This fog is beginning to lift," said Jim, "and then we can take our bearings. I want to locate this ranch the first thing, and then we can get help."

"Here's a wire fence," announced Jo, "I reckon it's the one the old geser cut."

"It surely is and a straight course north is our direction," remarked Jim.

"Here are hills that look like those we rode through," said Jo.

"We will soon be there now," was Jim's cheerful comment "What's that? It sounds like a dog barking." They stopped, listening intently, as the sound came faint, but there was no mistaking it.

"I suppose it's some big hound, that they usually keep on these ranches," said Jo, who was beginning to feel depressed from hunger and fatigue, "and he will jump at us because we haven't any weapons."

But in spite of Jo's fear they hurried on in the direction of the sound. In a short time, they came to a road between two barb wire fences, which the reader will remember that the Captain and his crew took when they were coming through the Sebastian ranch. But the boys struck it higher up, and were soon in the pasture that sloped down from the ranch houses toward the road.

Jim and Jo now heard the voices of men as well as the baying of the dogs. The men were talking excitedly about the finding of one of their number in the canyon tied and gagged, and it was evident that it was not a good time for strangers to visit the ranch of the Sebastians.

But Jim and Jo were dulled to danger and did not care what risk they ran and so they called to the men in a friendly Spanish greeting. There was instantly a great hubbub, and two men charged down upon them, preceded by a couple of fierce-looking mongrels. These came dashing for them with red, gaping mouths. The boys defended themselves gallantly with two stout sticks that they had picked up. Then the two Mexicans took a hand.

"Look out, Jo," cried Jim, who was ever on the alert. "That fellow is going to throw his lasso." Jo dodged just in the nick of time, but this gave one of the dogs a chance, and if Jim had not stunned him by a resounding crack on the head it would have gone hard with his brother.

Just then another man appeared on the scene, attracted from the vicinity of the house by the noise of the encounter. He came full speed on a splendid sorrel. It was Juan Sebastian, a dark, handsome young man, a true son of Spain.

"What's all this?" he cried as he rode up. "Here, Sancho, Jan, you brutes, come off." The dogs slunk obediently to heel.

"We found those insolent Gringoes," said one of the men, "coming straight for the Senor's house. We undertook to stop them."

"Senor," said Jim, bowing low and speaking in his best Spanish, "we are sorry, my brother and I, to have caused this disturbance. We are strangers and unfortunate, and we have heard of your hospitality, Senor"—Jim bowed again. He was not so simple, after all.

The Senor Sebastian returned the bow with more grace than Jim could command.

"I regret, Senor—" he hesitated.

"Darlington," added Jim.

"Senor Darlington, that you have been attacked in this manner, but there has been a party of desperadoes that have been overrunning this part of the country for the past two days, and they took one of my men and bound and gagged him and so you see, Senors," a smile and bow completed the Spanish gentleman's apology perfectly.

"We have just escaped, not more than an hour ago, from these same desperadoes," said Jim. "They have taken my brother and friend with them towards the coast."

"We will saddle and overtake them," promised the Senor, "after we have had breakfast."

Jim was stunned by this gentle sort of procrastination.

"But, Senor," he said gravely, "we will not be able to overtake them if we do not start immediately. Pardon my abruptness, but I cannot rest while there are two of my party prisoners in the hands of this gang of cut-throats."

"It is to be perfectly understood," replied the Spaniard with no less gravity, "we will make haste, but first we will eat while the servants are getting two of the horses ready for you and your brother."

This was not Jim's idea of making haste by a long shot, but he was enough of a traveler to recognize that the ways of men and nations differed and that nothing was to be gained by going against the grain of a national characteristic. So while fuming inwardly, he was outwardly quiet and composed. He argued, too, that it was not likely the pirate gang would retain the captured prisoners. Later, when they were themselves at a safe distance they would set free the others.

As they went towards the house, the Spaniard dismounted and walked with them, giving his horse into the charge of one of the men, with directions to bring two other horses to the house. There was an unmistakable courtesy in doing this and the boys appreciated it. They could not help but contrast their appearance with that of the Spaniard. He was not gaudily dressed like a vaquero, but everything he wore was possessed of a certain richness and was not lacking in color. He truly was a Prince of the South in appearance as well as in courtesy.

Jim and Jo were disreputable beyond words. Their clothes were muddy, torn and disheveled, their faces so grimed that it was hard to tell their original color, and there were blotches of blood upon their clothes as well as faces and hands. But, though they looked worse than tramps, there was something straightforward in their manner and their way of speech that the Spaniard was quick to recognize.

As they walked along the Spaniard explained that his household had been unusually disturbed that morning. His mother, he said, was an invalid, and had escaped from her attendant. Some mental trouble, he briefly mentioned as the cause of the elderly lady's worriment. Evidently, he did not connect the tragedy in his own life, in which his father's life was sacrificed, with the boys' antagonist. His mother, he assured them, had been found and was returned to her home.

The boys now had a good view of the house, as they approached it. The fog having lifted, they could take in the whole situation. The structure itself was of adobe, of the early California type, low, with broad verandas, and built on four sides around a court with a fountain in the centre, with fish in the basin, and grass around it. There were beautiful rose-tree bushes with gold and red clusters growing over the corners of the house.

From the verandah there was a beautiful view looking off over the surrounding country. The house itself stood on a rise of ground that sloped gently from the plain below. Back of it rose the mountains of the coast range, while in the distance glittered the broad breadths of the Pacific, shining like an azure floor. As far as eye could see was the domain of this great ranch. It was, indeed, a princely estate, and one of which the Senor Sebastian might well be proud. Those were the days of romance and of charm in the land of Southern California.



CHAPTER XIII

A NEW FRIEND

The servants eyed the two boys curiously as they stepped upon the verandah and the brothers were not reassured by any looks of friendliness, though they were outwardly courteous. A withered looking old woman, who looked to Jim as though she had Indian blood showed the boys to a room, where they could wash up.

"Jove! Doesn't it dazzle your eyes, Jo?" exclaimed Jim, "to see a real room, with a bed and a white spread, with those starched things where the pillows ought to be."

"This room would certainly please Aunt Maria," remarked Jo. "That four poster bed with the canopy over it, is an old timer, I'll warrant you."

"If I slept in this room," said Jim, "I would make a low bow to the bed and then roll up in my blanket and go to sleep on the floor."

"How do I look?" asked Jo, after he had rubbed and scrubbed his face for a long time.

"You have got off the first layer," replied Jim, "and look about the color of a half-breed. Let me try my hand at polishing up."

"It will take you a week," remarked Jo discouragingly.

It cannot be truly said that they looked ornamental even when they were clean, for Jim's face was badly torn, one side of it being scraped raw. He got this memento when he tackled the Captain and fell down into the canyon with him. One eye was blackened and the other cheek bruised. These disadvantages were not to be overcome in a short time.

Jo was somewhat more presentable, but he, too, showed signs of the rough time that they had had with the Captain and his "merry" crew. But in spite of all this, there was something in their bearing, an honest hardihood and manliness that could not be discounted by torn clothes and bruised faces.

"This room looks dirty, now," said Jo, "I'm ashamed to leave it like this."

"We will go outside to brush off our clothes," proposed Jim, "and I'm going to empty this dirty water myself." He started out with it when he met one of the servants in the hall. With many explanations, numerous gestures and much excitement, she took the pail from Jim and disappeared with it.

"They won't let you do anything for yourself here, Jo," reported Jim, returning to the room.

This was correct and the boys noticed afterwards that the servants regarded them with odd expressions of amusement and it was evident to the sensitive Jo that they were being "guyed" by them, to use a modern expression. The boys being American lads, were self-reliant, and were accustomed to do everything for themselves, and, unknowingly they had gone counter to a custom of constant service of the Spaniards. It was to demean oneself, according to their code, to do any menial work.

"Might as well start for the dining room," proposed Jo. "I hate leaving Tom and Juarez to their fate this way."

"I more than hate it," protested Jim, "but as you can't hurry these people, we will make the best time by falling in with their way of doing business."

Then they went out into a passageway and, taking the wrong turn, which was quite easy in the rambling old house, they came to a door that entered into the courtyard.

"My, but this is beautiful," exclaimed Jo. "It makes you appreciate California better when you see a place like this."

"That hammock looks good to me," said Jim. "I would like to stretch out in it right now."

Just then the door opened on the verandah and a really beautiful young girl stepped out. She was probably seventeen years of age, dressed in white, with a black mantilla over her equally black hair and her dark cheeks glowed with color. A very romantic meeting, Messieurs, the gallant young Americans at one end of the verandah and the Senorita at the other. Then she saw Jim and Jo with their scarred and bruised faces. With a little shriek, and clasping her hand to her eyes, she retreated quickly to her room.

"What did you do to scare that girl, Jo?" inquired Jim severely of his brother.

"Nothing," declared Jo, stoutly. "It was the sight of your face. It would give a wooden Injun a chill." Jim felt of the said face reflectively.

"I guess you are right, Jo," he admitted, "but you ain't so charming in appearance that you would do any damage."

"Let's walk along this side," proposed Jo. "Perhaps we will locate the breakfast."

"All right," agreed Jim.

So they stalked along, more or less conscious that a pair of dark blue eyes were regarding them, and they thought they heard a trill of laughter, but it might have been one of the maids. They need not have felt embarrassed for there was the grace in their movements that goes with strength and youth and suppleness.

They were walking under a perfect bower of flowers anyway. For this side was beautifully latticed and over the lattice work grew vines with purple and golden flowers, that would give a grateful shade when the California sun would drive the fog away.

Under foot there was a double flagging of stone with trodden dirt on either side.

"I don't see a broom anywhere," said Jo.

Just then they heard the voice of Senor Sebastian behind them and they turned quickly.

"I had begun to fear, Senors, that you had become lost again."

"We were, partially, Senor."

"Our simple breakfast is ready now if you are," he said.

"We will have to brush the dirt off before we can go in," protested Jim.

"Antonio bring a brush," called the Senor. In a moment a gray-haired, bent Mexican came with a big kitchen broom. Instantly the Senor flushed with anger.

"Stupid one, my guests are not my horses. Have a care."

A suspicion flashed through Jim's mind that the ancient servitor had brought the broom on purpose. It was clear that the servants did not have a very high opinion of their American visitors. The next time he returned he had gotten the right brush, and made a point of sneezing as the dust flew from their mud-dried clothes. This made Jim laugh in spite of himself.

"More dust than the Sirocco brings," said Jim. The old servitor regarded him with a cunning eye.

"Si, Senor," he said, then he was seized with a perfect convulsion of sneezing. This aroused his master's ire.

"No more of that, Antonio," he commanded, "or it will be the lash." Antonio's cold was cured from that moment. Jim's mouth twitched at the corners with the humor of it but he did not laugh now for that would be discourteous to his host.

Finally the brushing was finished to the regret of the servants, who had kept an amused eye on Antonio's performance, while pretending to be busy on some trivial tasks near the Patio or court. In her own room, the Senorita was faint with laughter as she watched Antonio dusting the two American lads.

It was a simple breakfast that the boys found prepared for them in a long, low dining-room, with its dark beams and white plastered walls. The coffee was excellent, with a delicate aroma, and was probably the best that Mexico could afford. There was a large plate of meat garnished with peppers, and a mixed dish of vegetables that looked odd, but that tasted deliciously. You may be sure that Jim and Jo appreciated their meal, and they felt invigorated when it was finished, wishing all the while, however, that they were on the trail of their captured comrades.

"Now, Senors, the horses are at the door. They are spirited, but I am sure that you ride well."

This was a mere expression of courtesy on his part, for he did not expect any such thing and thought to see his guests fall off if the horses should rise on their hind legs, as they no doubt would, for there was not a horse on the big rancho but what was peppery and spirited. No sooner had the Senor spoke than Jim jumped to his feet, putting his hand to his head.

"I have forgotten about Caliente!" he exclaimed. "It is my horse, Senor," he explained to his host. "He is up the canyon because the gang that attacked us last night were afraid of him."

"I will send for him," said the Senor.

"By the pool in the pocket," said Jim. "But I think I ought to get him myself, though I appreciate your offer, but one's horse, you know—"

"I understand perfectly."

"I cannot leave him without food and water," said Jim.

"I will attend to that. I will send a trustworthy man," and he spoke to the servant who was waiting on the table. In a short time he returned with a tall, sinewy man, with straight black hair and dark skin. He gave this man the necessary instructions and with a "Si, Senor," the man went out.

"A good reliable fellow," remarked Jim. "He looks like an Indian."

"He is an Indian," replied their host, "but of the right kind. Your horse is in good hands."

"Tell him to bring him down to the ranch," said Jim. "I'll trust Caliente with him." The Indian was called back and under his stolid demeanor was an appreciation of Jim's confidence.

Breakfast over they went out on the verandah, where they could see the horses. They were spirited looking beasts all right. One was a bay, the two front legs white stockinged, very trimly built, with a flashing eye, that he kept rolling around. The boy who was holding him had his hands full, as the bay would rise on his hind legs and strike out viciously with his forefeet.

The other animal was much heavier than the bay. A brilliant black, whose coat fairly shone with careful grooming. He had been standing comparatively quiet until the three appeared upon the verandah of the house, then, with a sudden surge backward, he dragged the Mexican boy off his feet, shaking his head viciously.

"We ought to be armed, Senor," advised Jim. "If we should overtake those men, they will put up a desperate fight."

"Certainly, Senor," he answered. "Come into this room and select your weapon."

After both Jim and Jo were armed, they went out to the horses.



CHAPTER XIV

THE PURSUIT

All the servants seemed just now to find duties of importance in front of the house or near it. They had no idea of missing the chance of seeing these Gringoes, whom they held in contempt, thrown from their horses.

Jim took the black and Jo was left the red, the easiest to manage even if he seemed the liveliest. Jo was too quick for his horse and before he could whirl to one side, he was in the saddle. Then his animal reared and plunged but Jo sat on him as easily as a cowboy does his steed. There was no mistaking his horsemanship. The servants were duly and deeply disappointed.

But their hopes revived when they saw Jim tackle the black. He began that steady sideways movement which Jim knew so well, whenever he tried to put his foot in the stirrup. The servants began to smile, here would be some fun. The "Black Devil," as they called the horse, had been known to kill men, so they had pleasant anticipations. When Jim found that he could not mount by the stirrup, he made a quick, powerful leap and was in the saddle.

"Bravo!" cried the Senor Sebastian, but he knew that the fight had just begun.

Jo looked on with interest and perfect confidence in brother Jim's ability. The black stood perfectly stunned for a moment or two at being so suddenly mounted, then he sprang into action. With his back in a hump he shot into the air and came down stiff-legged.

Without loss of a second he went into the air again, higher than before. From the corral the Mexican cowboys were looking at the duel between the horse and the boy with lively interest.

"The Diablo will kill him," said one nonchalantly, blowing a puff of smoke from his cigarette.

"Five dollars that the Gringo stays on," said a second. The wager was made and others followed, for the Mexicans are inveterate gamblers. The third time the horse pitched into the air, Jim swaying with the animal's every motion as the trained cowboy does. Finding that he could not dislodge his rider that way, the black rose on his hind legs to a perpendicular position.

Jim knew the trick of old, and was prepared for it. As the horse started to fall backwards, Jim who had been sticking like a leech, leaped lightly to the ground and with all his strength, pulling upon the bridle, slammed him to the ground. No sooner was the horse upon his feet again than Jim was in the saddle.

Once more he tried that falling back trick and this time Jim brought him down upon the damp earth with a thud that jarred things. The black devil had had enough. He stood quivering and sweating, but for the time being subdued.

"Bravo!" cried the Senor Sebastian again, and he shook his guest by the hand warmly. "You are a true horseman. Now we shall go. We shall eat up the miles."

The crowd of cowboys swung their hats in a salute to the Gringo, who could conquer the black devil, while the house servants, disappointed at the stranger's triumph, went back to their different tasks.

The three horsemen galloped away down the sloping pasture, the Spaniard in advance as he knew the country and the most direct way to the coast. His horse was a splendid sorrel, somewhat taller than the horse that Jim rode. And he was a gallant figure in his leather riding suit and peaked sombrero with a brilliant colored band around it.

Jim and Jo rode few yards behind the Spaniard and side by side. Jim felt a certain exultation in his victory over the Black before people who would have liked to have seen him defeated. It was exhilarating, too, this plunging gallop ahead with a chance to rescue Tom and Juarez and to get even with Captain Broom and his gang, who had taken away their valuables and had given the boys such a cruel defeat.

"This is a fine horse," said Jim, "though he hasn't the stride of Caliente."

"He is a beauty, when it comes to bucking," Jo commented. "There is nothing the matter with this bay but my black can beat him for speed."

So they flew on, the speed of their steeds blowing back their horses' manes, and the fresh air from the sea bringing a feeling of hope to their hearts, that they would yet be able to overtake the pirates, and rescue their comrades in distress. Their horses' feet were devouring the miles.

"We stand a chance to get 'em at this rate," shouted Jim.

"Won't it be fine if we can all sit down to dinner tonight?" replied Jo. "I bet that Tom and Juarez would enjoy a square meal with the Senor at the ranch house. Ifs kind of nice to be civilized once in a while."

"You're right, it is," declared Jim emphatically.

"I wonder if there isn't a store around here where we could buy some clothes," inquired Jo, anxiously. "We look too disreputable to appear in polite society."

"Thinking about that girl, I suppose?" remarked Jim with brotherly intuition.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," replied Jo evasively. "How about the Senorita down in Mexico who threw you the rose at the castle?" This reference to the Senorita Cordova whom the Frontier Boys had rescued in Mexico, checked Jim from getting too gay for he still had a tender place in his memory for her.

The fog by this time was entirely dissipated, and they could see by certain white or rather light spots in the clouds where the sun was going to break through and an absolutely clear day would result. The three riders had now reached the brush region that began a few miles from the coast and they were compelled to go more slowly.

But if they had only known what was going on not more than two miles away from where they were, they would not have slackened speed no matter what risk they ran. For Captain Broom and his crew with the two captives had arrived at the cove and old Pete and Jack Cales were going into the cave for the boat.

There was a chance, but the Senor and his companions must hurry. Some mishap to the pirates' expedition just at this point and the frontier boys would win. Tom and Juarez might have sung the tune that they had often sung before in camp.

"Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching, Cheer up, comrades, they will come, And beneath the starry flag We will breathe the air again Of freedom in our own beloved home."

But they did not know and they sat miserable and dejected upon the damp sand of the beach, not knowing that Jim and Jo were coming nearer every second. Then there came an accident, though a slight one, that gave the pursuers a chance.

Old Pete was carrying one end of the boat. He was nervous, anyway, in regard to the cave and its grewsome contents, thought he saw some dark spectre coming for him out of the blackness of the cave and he dropped his end of the boat and scudded for the beach.

The Captain was furious, giving him a blow that sent him spinning half way down to the water, and he and the mate rushed back to see what damage the boat had suffered. It was only slightly stove in, but every second was precious. The pursuers were only a mile away.

Jim began to grow restless as they neared the coast. He seemed to feel that they were nearing the enemy, and at his urging, the Spaniard, who had an increased respect and liking for Jim ever since he had conquered Black Diablo, put his horse to the gallop, and away they went along the narrow winding path through the bushes.

The branches whipt them, but they paid no attention, but on they went; it was evident that they made considerable racket and Captain Broom, with a fierce burst of energy for which he was famous, got the boat launched, the two prisoners in, and with himself and the mate at the oars, made the boat leap forward over the lazy rolling swell towards the graceful Sea Eagle.

When they had reached a point half-way to the vessel, the horsemen came tearing through the last screen of brush onto the yellow sand. The enemy had escaped by the skin of its teeth and it was heart-rending to see Tom and Juarez being carried away from them at every stroke of the oars towards their black prison. Jim put up his hands to his mouth and yelled:

"We will rescue you, boys. Don't give up. We'll get 'em yet."

A derisive yell greeted this challenge and one of the men in the boat fired at the group on the shore, but the bullet fell harmlessly short. They did not dare to fire in return lest they hit either Tom or Juarez.

"They have steam up on board," observed Jim. "But I see one chance to do some execution."

It was this. The Sea Eagle was anchored close under a cliff on the northern side of the cove. So Jim slipped off his horse, for the way on that side was impracticable except on foot. It was hard going at that, especially as there were a good many cacti with their wretched thorns.

Jim stepped gingerly along over the rocks, gliding through the bushes until at last he reached a point above the vessel where he could almost look down upon her decks. The boat from the shore had just come alongside and the prisoners were hustled into the cabin and the door locked. Tom and Juarez were a dejected-looking pair and it made Jim's heart ache to see them.

The Captain went upon the quarter-deck and gave an order to the man at the wheel. The anchor had already been weighed. Slowly and gracefully the Sea Eagle turned, and there stood Captain Broom, as big as life upon the bridge. Why did not Jim fire? Because he had come to a certain wise conclusion.



CHAPTER XV

JIM AND THE SEA EAGLE

As Jim had raised his revolver to fire, a sudden idea came to him. In the first place he rebelled instinctively from shooting a man down in cold blood from ambush, even if he was as desperate and crime-stained a character as Captain Bill Broom, besides it would not save Tom and Juarez and only make their captivity harder to endure, if any injury was done the Captain.

Another thing, Jim was sure that if he began the attack that his two comrades would be used as shields to protect the man at the wheel, so that the Sea Eagle could be navigated safely out of the cove. He saw with interest the narrow place between two lines of foam above hidden ledges where the boat must pass in order to reach the open sea. He marvelled at the temerity of Captain Broom in daring to bring his ship through such a place.

Then a brilliant thought came to him, a sudden stroke that might turn defeat into victory. The Sea Eagle was now making straight for the narrow channel. Jim slipped back for a short distance an ran as rapidly as he could to a point a little to the west of where he had first hidden. He did not have long to wait. The Sea Eagle was almost directly opposite his place of ambush, and was just sticking her nose into the narrow passage.

Jim raised his revolver and took careful aim and fired. The man at the wheel gave a yell and clapped his hand to the shoulder, letting go the wheel and the nose of the little steamer swung toward the rock. A swell lifted her bow clear by a few inches, and the Captain caught the steamer by the wheel and brought her to a course.

"Bring those boys up on deck and shoot them if that black-haired devil," (meaning Jim) "fires another shot," he called to the mate.

That worthy was not slow to obey the order, he had them on deck in full sight in a jiffy and held a pistol at Tom's head. Jim had raised his arm to fire at the Captain when he heard his order and it was as if he had been paralyzed. He knew that Tom and Juarez would have been killed to a certainty if he fired another shot.

Luck had broken against him again, for that was all that had kept the Sea Eagle from going on the reef, where if she had not been wrecked, she and her crew would have been at the mercy of the men on shore. Just the lifting of the wave had saved the vessel by a few inches, that, and Captain Broom's quick and skillful action.

The second round of the contest had gone in favor of the pirate and his crew, but only by a shade as it were. But it would not surprise me a bit if Jim evened up matters in the third and final round. Let us hope so, at least, for that will give a silver lining to the black cloud that had rolled over the boys' fortunes at this particular time.

Jim made his way slowly back to where Jo and the Senor were waiting for him on the beach. He was despondent over the failure of his plans by so close a margin, and the sight of Tom and Juarez helpless on the deck in the hands of these sea-coast pirates, was always before his eyes.

"What were you trying to do, Jim?" inquired Jo, "Sink the ship?" Before Jim could reply, the Spaniard gave a cry of warning.

"Look out, they are going to shoot."

Glancing toward the Sea Eagle, which was now a half mile from shore, they saw a puff of smoke, and then a shell struck into the beach below them and exploding, sent a shower of sand over them and the horses. The latter, frightened, reared and plunged, but the boys soon got their animals under control, as they quickly tired of acting up in the heavy sand. Jim shook his fist in the direction of the Sea Eagle.

"Curse your insolence!" he yelled. "I'll make every one of you eat crow, you miserable hounds!"

Jim looked ugly, his eyes glared with concentrated fury and the veins on his temple were swollen and throbbing. Unthinkingly, he pulled back hard upon the bit, sending his horse up in the air.

"Easy, boy," he said, soothingly. "Easy. It was my fault for yanking you."

When the horse was quieted, Jim was cooled down to his normal temperature, and he told his comrades of his attack upon the Sea Eagle and how it had turned out.

"Senor Darlington," said the Spaniard impressively, "I will take off my hat to you. You are a natural General. Take my advice, my friend, and go to Spain. There you might head a revolution and in time rise to high mark."

"I appreciate your praise deeply, Senor Sebastian," responded Jim, "but my own country, Senor, I could not leave it for another."

"Right, Senor," replied the Spaniard, "you have the true spirit."

"Which way will she turn, do you suppose?" asked Jo, pointing to the vessel that was moving steadily out on the Pacific in a straight line from the shore.

"To the North, doubtless," replied the Spaniard.

"Wherever she goes we must find her out," said Jim, with grim determination.

"I wish we could follow them," sighed Jo. "If we could only hire a boat."

"They have our money," replied Jim, briefly.

"I had forgotten that," said Jo, and his face showed his disappointment.

"Permit me to help you," said the Spaniard, "I am to blame for detaining you at breakfast."

"That is generous of you, Senor," replied Jim, "but I do not favor going to the expense of chartering a steamer. Even if it were possible, my plan would be to follow along the coast on horseback and see what can be done when they make a landing."

"As you are the General," replied the Spaniard, "we will allow you to make the plans."

"Look!" exclaimed Jo, "they are turning South instead of North."

"Impossible!" cried the Spaniard. "There is only one port within two hundred miles. I do not understand. Yes, they are surely going South."

"Perhaps they have a secret landing place," hazarded Jim.

"Not so," replied the Spaniard. "Not a harbor where they could land save one and there they would not dare to go."

The three watchers on horseback gazed until there was little to be seen other than a smudge of smoke upon the horizon. It was no use, the Sea Eagle was holding to her southerly course to some mysterious port. The sun had now come out and was shining with sheer brilliance upon the sparkling ocean.

"We must return now," said the Spaniard. "There is nothing more for us to do at present."

"I think that my brother and I will start this afternoon and take the trail to the south," announced Jim, "wherever those fellows set foot, I want to be waiting for them."

"I fear it is impossible to start so soon," replied the Spaniard, "I must go with you as I know the country to the South, every foot of it."

"The Senor is right, Jim," put in Jo, quickly, as he saw a frown on Jim's face and was afraid that he was going to say something abruptly. "You will want to give Caliente a good rest, so that when we start, we will make the distance without delay. Then we have to make some preparations ourselves."

Jim looked at his brother with a moment's dark suspicion, but it was evident that Jo was perfectly sincere in what he said.

"I will promise, Senor," said the Spaniard with a peculiar smile, "that when we start which will be early tomorrow morning, that we will travel far and fast enough to suit you and your horse." There was a challenge in his voice that Jim met smilingly.

"So be it, Senor," he said, "I will try to be in sight at the finish."

"My horse is a remarkable animal for speed and endurance, I must tell you frankly," said the Senor gravely. "He has no equal in this country of California. He has proved it more than once and against all comers."

"He is certainly a fine horse," admitted Jim, looking at the sorrel with admiring eyes. "He has a splendid stride."

"Ah, no, Senor," laughed the Spaniard with a gleam of his white teeth, "I did not mean him," patting the horse on the neck, "a good animal, indeed, but more for my little sister to ride than for me. Wait, my friend, until I introduce you to Don Fernando and then you will see a horse for the first time."

"I should be very much pleased to see him," said Jim, frankly curious and interested.

"Tomorrow," said the Spaniard.

They had now turned into the narrow trail among the bushes and had only ridden a few steps when Jo called a sudden halt.

"What do you think, Jim, there's my horse and Tom's tied in that thicket."

Sure enough there they were, utterly worn out, but with spirit enough to recognize their old comrades Jim and Jo, and if ever horses expressed a welcome these two did when they first caught sight of their two friends.

"They have cut the saddles to pieces, the brutes," exclaimed Jo.

"I'm glad to get the horses," said Jim, "I am surprised that they didn't cut their throats."

"They will follow us all right," said Jo, in reply to the Spaniard's suggestion that they would have to be led, and they trotted along behind Jo, who was the last one in line.

"Do you know of any place where we could buy things?" asked Jim. "We need a new outfit."

"But we have no money," put in Jo quickly.

"I will get the money or its equivalent today," said Jim. "If there is a store where the Senor can get me credit."

"Yes, there is a store where a Portugee sells about everything that we need in this country," replied the Spaniard. "It is some distance to the north. We will ride there before we return to the ranch. There will be no difficulty about the credit," he concluded, with a bow to Jim.



CHAPTER XVI

THE BOYS PUT ON STYLE

"You do not know my ability to spend," said Jim, "I may have to plunge to the extent of several hundred dollars. You see my brother has very expensive tastes. It will cost quite a small fortune when I buy him a complete trousseau including diamonds."

"I will pledge my lands if necessary to get the young Senor diamonds," said the Spaniard laughingly.

In about an hour's time they came to a large one story frame building painted a rather light blue, which color had weathered a good deal. It had a square, false front with a sign on it that read, "Mr. Gonsalves, General Trader."

They hitched their horses to some well graveled posts, and went inside leaving Jo's and Tom's horses free to graze at will around, or to stand under the shelter of some drooping pepper tree across the road. The proprietor, a short, thick-set Portugee with a close trimmed black beard, and a gray slouch hat which he always wore, apparently, received them graciously. The contents of the store were entirely at their service,—if they paid for them.

"We will miss poor Tom here," said Jo, "he was always our purchasing agent."

"And a mighty good one," added Jim. "Not even a Connecticut Yankee could get the best of him in a bargain."

The Spaniard sat in a round armed wooden chair, gracefully smoking a cigarette, while his guests busied themselves making purchases. First the boys bought some new clothes, which they retired behind a counter to put on, and emerged in proper apparel for the plains.

Blue flannel shirts, and pants of the same color, held up by leather belts, with much glitter of silver on them, then they bought a sombrero apiece, not after the Mexican style, but of the American type. Jim had a red band around his and Jo had a blue.

"Now we want some handkerchiefs to tie around our necks," said Jo.

"Of course," remarked Jim with a wink, "something that will catch the eyes of the ladies."

So M. Gonsalves brought out a brilliant assortment of handkerchiefs.

"Here's a very fine article, gents," he said holding out a red silk handkerchief, clustered with white horseshoes.

"Nothing the matter with that," admitted Jim admiringly, with a droll look at Jo. "But this plain red one will suit me. My brother would probably like the horseshoe one." But Jo also declined.

"I will take the dark blue one," he said, "it matches my costume better."

"Gee! but you will look like a color scheme," laughed Jim, "blue eyes, blue pants, shirt, tie and socks, and hat band, you ought to be a sailor on the blue Pacific."

"The next things are boots," remarked Jo.

"Not for me," said Jim briefly, "I want moccasins. Worn 'em all my life, and I am not going to change to boots now."

"Fine line of moccasins," said the accommodating Mr. Gonsalves in his best trade manner. You see he had been in business in San Francisco and knew something of the ways of customers.

"But it gives us more style to wear boots. You notice that all the inhabitants wear them, we can buy moccasins too. You wear them all the time and they will set you down for an Indian."

"When a fellow once gets the idea of style in his head," said Jim resignedly, "nothing this side of matrimony is going to stop him. So lay on MacDuff and cursed be he who first cries hold, enough."

"I feel like I was anchored," commented Jim, stepping across the floor with heavy tread. "I should like to stalk a deer or an Indian in these things. He could tell you were arriving before you got above the horizon."

"But you look fine in 'em," said Jo.

It was true that he made a striking figure in his blue togs. The lithe powerful physique, and the strong, resolute face.

"Better look out, Jo," grinned Jim. "No Senorita would look at you, when they see me dashing over the landscape."

"I'm a pretty stylish looking guy myself," responded Jo, confidently. He did make a good appearance, there was no doubt of that. Though slighter than his brother he was well set up, and his frame was well muscled. He was handsomer than Jim. But there was no nonsense about either of the two boys and they never gave an unnecessary thought to their appearance.

"Now, Mr. Gonsalves," said Jim, "we would like to look at some of your man-killers."

"Revolvers?" he questioned, "just step this way. I can fit you out all right."

He did have a fine collection and Jim examined the different ones carefully, noting their action and how easily they worked.

"I see you are no tenderfoot," complimented the proprietor. "You have handled shooting irons before."

"I'll be a tenderfoot before long, if I wear these condemned boots you sold me," said Jim gruffly ignoring the compliment. He did not care especially for M. Gonsalves' style. "Now let's have a look at your rifles." The proprietor actually took off his hat and bowed.

It was evident that the distinguished gentlemen from nowhere in particular were going to buy out his entire stock.

"Would you be so gracious as to step this way?" he said, "I have the rifles in the back of the store."

They were so gracious, and after due examination they selected a couple of well balanced guns and purchased enough ammunition to stand off a few Indian raids. All the stuff besides what they had on their backs they packed upon Tom's horse, as Tom was not present to resent the indignity.

"Now the last things are some saddles," said Jim, "seeing that our kind friends, the pirates, cut up those we owned."

"Senor Darlington," said the Spaniard coming forward and touching Jim lightly on the arm, "Do not speak of buying saddles. I will see to that." Jim did not know exactly what their host meant but he thanked him and deferred to his request.

Now behold the frontier boys in complete costume, with glittering revolvers at their hips and rifles swung across their backs, upon their hands were fringed buckskin gloves. They had gone the whole hog as Jim said.

"I'll take the shine off this costume in about one day," said Jim grimly, "when I get in the open, I would rather break a broncho, than a new suit of clothes." There was no doubt about his impressive appearance, as the sun flashed on the metal of the accoutrements and he swung himself into the saddle. Even their host seemed to hold them in higher regard. Different people, different manners.

When they reached the house ranch the first thing Jim did was to find Caliente. He was in the long adobe stable that was a half-mile from the house, at the beginning of a wide mountain valley, where the air drew through from the sea.

"How are you, Caliente old fellow," cried Jim, as he opened the box stall and went in to shake hands with his old comrade. But the horse leaped to one side, and then reared up as if to strike Jim.

"He don't know you," cried Jo who was on the outside of the stall. "Take off your hat."

Jim whirled it out of the stall, and a change came over Caliente. He recognized his master, and nickering in recognition he rubbed his head against Jim's shoulder, and took playful nips at his fine new shirt, while Jim fairly hugged him, and gave him resounding whacks with his open hand upon his splendid sides and shoulders.

"A magnificent animal, Senor Darlington," said Senor Sebastian to Jim, "I congratulate you."

It was a true word. Caliente with his proud neck, small but shapely head, powerful but not too heavy frame, and color of mottled gray was magnificent.

All that afternoon Jim busied himself grooming his horse until his coat fairly glistened. He looked carefully to his feed, and saw to his watering. For Jim was determined that his horse should not be beaten by the Spaniard's. He knew that the latter's horse must be an unusual animal. It was not a short race, instead, one of two hundred miles that lay before them on the morrow.

That evening the American boys presented a better appearance than they did at breakfast. It was a pretty scene that evening in the long dining room. The snowy table lit by light of candles and set with ancient silver brought from Spain. The young Senorita was seated at her brother's right, and on the other side were James Darlington and his brother Joseph. As to the impression she made upon them, we will say nothing, as this is not a romance, but they had a merry and delightful evening.

Their host and the young Senorita were much interested in hearing of the adventures of the boys in Mexico, especially that part that referred to the rescue of the Senorita Cordova from the hands of Cal Jenkins and his gang. I do not know that The Frontier Boys told it with any less fervor because the eyes of the young girl, seated opposite, were fixed intently upon them. It appeared that their host knew of the Senor Cordova, who was a man of prominence in his country, though he had not actually met him. So there was one more bond of sympathy between the Senor Sebastian and James and Jo Darlington.



CHAPTER XVII

ON BOARD THE SEA EAGLE

Let us now turn our interest and attention for a time to the cruise of the Sea Eagle, under the guidance of that redoubtable free-booter, Captain Broom. It was a mystery to the three who watched the ship turn to the South, what her port could be. We will soon be in a position to solve that problem.

No sooner had the Sea Eagle cleared the cove than Captain Broom went to his cabin to go over his spoils which he had taken from the frontier boys. He placed all the belts upon the table, took up one, and with a keen knife slit the first pouch. A large heavy Spanish coin rolled out and then clinked down upon the table.

The Captain's eyes glistened. "By Gosh!" he exclaimed, "it was worth while rounding up those fellows. They must have struck it rich down in Mexico. I bet the boys will be tickled to death to get their share." For whatever crimes and shortcomings Captain Broom could be charged with, at least he always divided fairly with his crew. Thereby he held their loyalty. It was not all policy, either, for there was a sterling streak in the bad old fellow.

Out of the next pouch there glittered upon the table several diamonds and a small palm full of rubies, with their rich color and radiance. "The boys will have enough to start a jewelry store," commented the Captain. "But I am not surprised at this haul. I know something about the hidden treasures myself, and they do say Mexico is the the place for them."

Out of another belt he got some ingots of gold and a girdle that caused the Captain to open his eyes. At first he did not know what to make of it. When he held it up he saw that it was formed of golden disks linked with strings of rubies and sapphires. In the third belt was a necklace that might have been worn by some Princess of the Incas. It was oddly, almost weirdly beautiful.

The fourth belt that he picked up chanced to belong to Jim.

"This seems lighter than the others," remarked the Captain. "Three of the pouches are empty." His face got black with rage. For instantly his mind leaped to the suspicion that one of his men had rifled it. If such had been the case, the guilty party would have got short shift at the end of a rope from the yard arm.

But the second examination showed that the cut was an old one.

"So!" he cried, "one of the boys has cached part of his share. I bet it was that long-legged, black-haired guy. That fellow would give the best of us trouble. I wish I had him to train. Maybe, I can make something of the Injun boy," meaning Juarez.

As to the belts, the shrewd old fellow, to make sure, measured them to see where the worn holes of the leather came, and the partially empty belt had been worn two inches longer than any of the others.

"It was the big fellow's," said the Captain.

Then he went upon deck and called the crew forward.

"Now, lads, choose your man to get your share of the goods," he said.

"It's Jack Cales, sir," they said, knowing that they would be called upon to select a man to take their share.

"All right! Come, lad," said the Captain, and led the way to his cabin. When Jack Cales saw the treasures on the table, he opened his eyes and mouth in astonishment.

"Why, Sir," he exclaimed, "we haven't seen anything like this since the day two years ago when—" he stopped suddenly, seeing from a look in the Captain's eyes that no reminiscences were desired.

"This is your share, lad," said the Captain, gruffly.

"Thank you, sir," responded Cales, as he swept the small pile of gold and jewels into the palm of his big hands.

"And mind ye, lad," warned the Captain, "I don't want any quarreling among yourselves or ye will hear from me."

"Aye, aye, sir," replied the sailor and backed out of the cabin.

There was an interesting gathering in the forecastle when Jack Cales deposited his handful of treasures on the top of a sea chest that had been hauled out for the purpose.

For once it was not necessary to have the lantern lit, for a broad band of sunshine shone down the steep ladder and cut a golden swath through the dingy gloom and fell athwart the chest and illuminated the group: the tall and swaggering Cales, the rugged, grizzled Pete, and the other sailormen; a typical group and not to be matched for picturesqueness anywhere; with their faces intent upon the center of the old black sea chest, where glowed and glittered the gold and jewels in the band of light that shone upon some of the faces of the intent group, while others were in the shadow. It was a scene such as Rembrandt—pardon, kind reader, I forgot for a moment, this is a simple narrative of Adventure.

"Pete," said Cales, "how the ladies will love you when they see a chain of glittering diamonds around your throat."

"One thing is certain, lad," replied the grizzled Pete, "I won't be givin' none of my diamonds away to the ladies. I'll keep the stones safe in my jeans."

"You'll have to be keerful, Pete," rallied another, "they'll be marrying you for your ill-gotten wealth, when they find out that you are an heiress. You can't help yourself, Pete. It won't make any difference because you are a pirate, that won't scare 'em. Not when they see them jewels."

"What's the use of you boys a talkin' to me," he said with a wise wink, "you're only kittens. I'm sixty year old and I'm a free man yit."

"Here's a pill for you, Pop," said Cales, dropping a diamond into his horny hand.

"Gee! I'm just as well pleased to get this as I was to get a bunch of popcorn when I was a kid back in New England, off the Christmas tree."

"Better have it sot in one of your front teeth, Pop," said Jack. This produced a roar of laughter, for Pete's front teeth were conspicuous by their absence.

So the distribution went on without any bickering at first, only jovial jokes, but at last there came a bone of contention over the last diamond. And in a jiffy Jack Cales and a short, stocky sailor were all tangled up in a fierce encounter. Their comrades, none too gently, hoisted them up on deck. There they continued their fight.

No sooner did Captain Broom see them than he cluttered down from the bridge at a furious rate. The two combatants ought to have taken warning but they were deaf to everything except their own struggle. He was livid with anger, and his wrath was in a large measure justified.

"I'll larn you!" he yelled, grabbing each by the back of the neck. "You won't fight any more this trip."

They were like children in his hands. He had not only the arms of a gorilla, but the strength of one when he was aroused and it was a caution the way he slammed them around, flaying the deck with them, and dashing their heads together. It seemed as if every bone in their bodies would be broken. Finally he flung them unconscious on the deck.

"Put them in the Sagenette," he ordered the mate.

"Aye, aye, sir," he replied, and with the aid of one of the sailors, they were chained in a narrow cell.

Here was where Juarez and Tom came in. As the two fighters were knocked out and locked up, it made the crew short and they were ordered out on deck from the cabin where they had been kept. Almost famished though they were, they had to jump in and work like nailers, not to say, sailors.

Fortunately for them, they had experienced a hard schooling in many different ways since they came west and were practical masters of several lines of industry, but this was their first experience sailoring. It was a hard school, but they learned more in a few days, than they would have under months of more gentle tuition. This was to stand them in good stead when they started on their cruise to Hawaii.

"I'll get even with those fellows," growled Tom as he passed near Juarez who was busy polishing some brass work. "Yes, if it takes the rest of my life."

"What do you mean, stopping and gabbing, you little shrimp?" roared the mate who chanced to see Tom stop.

And he rushed up and grabbing Tom by the back of the neck, shook him ferociously, landing him a couple of kicks at the same time. This was too much for Juarez, who poised a stone that he was using and was about to brain the mate with it when the Captain's iron grip fell on his arm. He didn't throw that brick.

"Easy, lad," said the Captain. "No more fighting on board this ship, or I'll take a hand again and don't you two lads pass the time of day either. You won't be killed if you work hard and keep cheerful." Then he gave the mate a look, which that worthy understood and Tom was allowed to go about his work without further molestation.

But this was a new and hard doctrine that the Captain had laid down that the boys had to take hard usage and unceasing work and keep cheerful about it. They soon found that the Skipper meant what he said. It was a bitter lesson, but perhaps they were the manlier for learning it so young. For it's something that life hands out to everyone sooner or later.

Often the boys looked longingly over the rail towards the faint, far outline of the California coast. The Skipper was keeping his ship far out from the land for reasons best known to himself. One thing was favorable in that the sea air had braced up Juarez so that he felt more like himself though his head was queer at times. And no wonder for that blow the Mexican dwarf had given him was sufficient to have stunned an ox.



CHAPTER XVIII

A DAY AT SEA

The Sea Eagle was steaming steadily South to her mysterious harbor. The day was a brilliant one and as the afternoon wore on the wind from the Northwest began to blow with fresher force and the white caps began to jump, here, there and everywhere over the broad surface of the ocean, and then slide down on the back of the waves.

There was a good deal of motion on the part of the Sea Eagle now, as she plunged into the waves and threw the spray back over her decks. Both Juarez and Tom proved themselves good sailors, which was just as well for if they had been sea sick together with their other miseries they might have succumbed.

Finally the long afternoon wore away and the time came for supper. The boys being neither flesh, fish or fowl, were not allowed to eat with the crew, and they did not mind in the least. When their rations did arrive, or rather when they went to the ship's galley and got their share, they found the fare not lacking in quality and abundance. There was a heaping plate of Mexican beans, a big hunk of bread and a bowl of hot tea. After the boys had stowed this below in their hatches they felt a hundred per cent better and more fit to meet any fate that might await them.

An hour before sunset a heavy bank of fog began to roll up from the West, soon covering the whole sky with its gracious softness, and decided restfulness, after the glittering blue-diamond beauty of the day.

It is the fogs alone that make the climate of California, especially in the Southern part endurable. Too much sunshine becomes as unbearable as too much cloudiness.

The sea went down, when the fog came up and the waters took on a steely color under their blanket of gray, rolling on, in that monotonous meditation that holds the mystery of forgotten ages in its brooding.

"Here's where you will sleep, boys," said Old Pete, who had been appointed by the Captain to have special charge over their education. "The men won't have you in the fo'castle, and it's pretty crowded there anyway."

"This will suit us, sir," replied Juarez. He did not call him Pop, as he would have on the land. This was the sea and had its own rules and customs, therefore Old Pete received his due of respect. But in his rough way he was not unfriendly towards the boys, for he remembered that they had given him friendly advice, when he was aboard that strange craft, a horse, the night before.

The place where the boys were to sleep was a sort of cubby hole in the bow of the boat, that was roofed over and where anchor chains and other junk was sometimes kept. It was not over four feet high, five in width at the broadest and narrowing to the bow.

A rude place to sleep in, but what did the Frontier Boys care for that? They could scarcely count the nights that they had slept out on the ground, and in bad weather too. They had a blanket apiece, and a tarpaulin to pull over them.

The blankets they had spread out on the floor of the cubby hole and they found that the tarpaulin made a mighty warm protective covering, keeping out the damp sea air in fine style.

"Where do you suppose we are heading for, Juarez?" inquired Tom.

"Maybe a port in Mexico or South America and then again we may head for Hawaii before we intend to."

"We are going South now, though," said Tom.

"If we run in close to the coast, we'll jump overboard, and swim for it," said Juarez.

"We could do it if we get within a mile," said Tom, "if it is not too rough."

Just then Juarez put his hand over Tom's mouth, he felt sure that someone was listening or was preparing to. Juarez ran his fingers carefully over the boards until he found where a hole had been bored through the planking a little back of their heads. It was just as he had suspected, someone was listening to hear what plans they would make.

With the noiselessness characteristic of him when scouting, Juarez crept out partially and cautiously raised his head until he caught sight of the sole of a man's boot. Then he crept back to his place and gave Tom a nudge. Forthwith they began talking in rather loud tones.

"Say Tom, do you know I rather like this ship. These fellows are rough in their way but that is to be expected."

"Of course," said Tom, in an equally loud voice, "but we might as well make the best of it. There is no chance for the boys to find us."

"You're right there, Tom."

Then in a short time they appeared to fall into a deep and sonorous sleep. This was no fake on the part of Tom who was actually and thoroughly tired. But Juarez was more of a veteran and he kept his eyes open and he was rewarded in a few minutes by seeing a man's feet hanging over the edge of their bunk house and then he saw the figure of the mate slouch aft.

"You sly old rascal, you," remarked Juarez. "We will 'larn' you to try and be too smart with the Frontier Boys. We may be young but we are not fools."

Nothing happened for a while and the gentle plunge of the Sea Eagle into the long rolling swell soon lulled the tired Juarez into a sound sleep, so that neither he nor Tom were aware that the ship had suddenly changed her course.

By and by however, Juarez waked with a start. Something had happened, he knew not what. He sat up and struck his head upon the planking overhead. Fortunately however he did not hit the place where the Mexican had struck him but at the best his head was a tender place with him and the blow stunned him, but as he was now more his rugged self, he soon recovered.

He found what had wakened him was the stopping of the ship. He saw several dark forms moving aft and he crept out to see what was afoot. He had to move very carefully but managed to reach the hood of the forecastle, where he crouched looking and listening.

He saw that they were lying to, close in to shore and could see the white splash of the breakers as they rolled towards the shore and could hear their monotonous thunder upon the beach. Here perhaps was their chance. Just then he heard the heavy voice of the Captain from the bridge.

"Lower away there." Then the starboard boat slid noiselessly down from the davits into the water.

Juarez got up and glided back into the cubby hole to tell Tom the good news. It was their opportunity to escape and seemingly a good one. The sea was smooth and the night was dark. They could slip over the side of the vessel and pull for the shore, and not a soul on the Sea Eagle would be the wiser until they looked into their nest in the morning to find it empty.

Once they got to the shore it would be an easy matter to make their way North until they met Jim and Jo.

The anticipation of the escape had already thrilled through every nerve in Juarez's body. But he had just started to wake Tom, when something made him look down the deck. There was the tall figure of one of the sailors coming directly towards the bow.

Juarez lay down quickly as though asleep. Then the man reached down and caught hold of Tom's foot and Juarez's and gave them a rough yank. "So you are here, you young brats. You had better make a move or the Cap'n will finish you."

Juarez was fairly sizzling with rage especially as Tom was really frightened by being wakened in such rough fashion and after all Tom was but a boy and it pained Juarez to see him so scared, but he was helpless, and all he could do was to add one more black mark to the score he was charging up to the free-booters.

Instead of moving away, the man sat on a capstan a few feet distant from the boys' den, watching for the slightest move on their part, a marlin spike dangling playfully in his hands. Juarez had not taken the crafty and keen sighted Captain Broom into account.

From the Bridge, that worthy, although he was watching the launching of the boat, had chanced to catch sight out of the tail of his eye of a dark shadow flitting back to the forecastle. He was not sure it was one of the boys, but he was taking no chances, for he had a real respect for their prowess and audacity as he might well have.

So he had sent one of his crew to guard this young lions' den, while the ship was so close in shore. He did not intend to stay longer than was necessary right at this point, and he waited with some anxiety for the return of the mate and Pete in the boat.

It was now two o'clock in the morning and Captain Broom wanted to be out at sea a good safe distance before the light broke. The mate's boat had now been gone over a half-hour, and the Captain stood at the end of the Bridge looking towards the shore. There was not a light upon the vessel to show her position. She lay silent and black upon the dark waters.

Then the Captain straightened up. He saw a moving body approaching the ship and heard the slight dip of oars. Then the boat was alongside and instead of two men, there were three in the boat. The Captain went down to the main deck to meet them.



CHAPTER XIX

THE PASSENGER

They met without any formality. The new passenger was a tall, slightly stooped man, with long hair falling down to his shoulders. Juarez was exceedingly anxious to see him, but could make out only a dark form moving along the deck.

"Come to the cabin, Jeems," called the Captain. "I've got something to tell ye."

They were soon seated in the Captain's cabin. This was a good-sized room, panelled in light wood and very neatly kept. There was quite a broad table of the same wood as the walls and a swivel chair in front of it. The Captain seated himself in this chair and whirled to talk to the visitor from the shore.

It was evident that he was not a temporary visitor for scarcely had they seated themselves in the cabin than the Sea Eagle slowly and gently turned and they felt the pulsation of her engines as she headed once more for sea. The man was seated on a sea chest opposite the Captain.

He wore long cowhide boots, with jeans pants thrust into their tops, flannel shirt of a nondescript color and a corduroy jacket. His hat was of a battered gray. The face was smooth-shaven, deeply lined and burnt to a dull brown. The hair which came down to his shoulders had that peculiar sun-burnt weathered tinge that comes from continual exposure to the weather. He was not an old man, probably on the sunny side of forty.

"Well, Jeems, what is your news?" inquired the Captain.

"The government boat is in the harbor, that's all." The Captain gave a low, peculiar whistle.

"When did she show up?" he asked.

"Two days ago, Cap'n," he replied.

"Come from the South?"

"Yes," replied the man. "Put in for coal, I reckon."

"Then put out for us," said the Captain briefly.

"Any 'baccy, Cap'n? Been out two days," remarked Jeems.

"Lift your lanky frame off that chest," replied the Captain, "and I'll git you some."

The man sprang up with remarkable alacrity, and as he unfolded length after length of his long figure, it seemed as if his head would touch the ceiling of the cabin. In fact, he did not miss it by many inches. It was a comical contrast between the short stooping figure of the Captain and the tall stranger.

"Waal, Jeems, I wouldn't advise you to grow any more, or I'll have to raise the roof of my cabin."

"That's what, Cap'n," replied Jeems imperturbably. "That's what happens when you grow up in Californy. You grow all the year around, and not like in New England where the winters makes you stubby."

Then the native philosopher seated himself on the chest again and took long and delightful pulls at his recently staked pipe.

"Hum!" he said. "This tastes right. Did yer ever know what it war to be starved for yer 'baccy, Cap'n?"

"No," replied the Captain, "I can't say that I ever did."

"Well, I want to tell you, Cap'n, that it is worse than going without water and I know what that is. Been on a desert till my tongue was as thick as a cow's, and hung out between my teeth, black."

"How long have you been away?" inquired the Captain.

"Three weeks, Cap'n."

"How are the sheep lookin'?"

"Pretty fair, Cap'n," he replied. "I think that they had a whiff of rain over there a few days ago."

"It won't be long till we git the rains," suggested the Captain.

"I don't know, Cap'n," remarked the lanky one. "The climate of Californy is a curious proposition. It's built on the bias down at this end."

"How's that?" asked the Captain curiously. He had a certain interest in this particular courier's theories, however he might laugh at their peculiarities. For there was apt to be a basis of reason in them.

"Well, it's this way, Cap'n," said James Howell, to give him his correct name, thrusting one lanky hand deep into his jeans pocket and bending forward awkwardly. "It's this way. You see the storms come down from the North to the Tehatchipei mountains, where there isn't any way for them to get through to the south. Then the clouds shift around to Arizony, and if the wind is right they are blown through the passes of the Sierra Madre into Southern Californy, then we get the rain. That's why I said, Cap'n, that this dazzling climate is built on the bias."

"Waal, Jeems, as a weather prophet you can't be beat," said the Skipper.

"In my business I get plenty of time to think, Cap'n," he remarked, "and as they ain't much to see except climate I think about that."

"Waal, I have a good sight more than that to consider," replied the Skipper. "I'm thinking right now about that government boat. I'm going on deck. You can turn in."

The Captain showed him to an empty cabin and the lanky stranger proceeded to make himself comfortable for the balance of the night, while the Captain went up on the Bridge.

"Where are you heading this boat to?" he asked gruffly of the man at the wheel.

Then he took the helm himself and immediately the Sea Eagle's prow pointed to the Westward as if she were heading directly for Japan. However, she held this course for only an hour and a half when the Skipper swung her bow once more to the South.

Long before the morning broke, Tom and Juarez, hauled out of their resting place, were set to scrubbing the decks and rubbing them down with holy-stone. They waited eagerly for the first break of day to see where they were.

Then the light came slowly through the fog-covered sky, showing a glossy sea with a slight swell and not a sign of land anywhere. The boys' hearts sank within them and they felt sure that they would not see their native land again.

Once in a while they would glance up at the Bridge where stood the Captain with his powerful stooped figure. He was evidently on the lookout, for with his eye at a long glass, he kept scanning the sky-line to the east. What was he looking for? Juarez knew instinctively that he was afraid of pursuit.

If only they could be overtaken and captured, his heart thrilled at the thought and he watched the Captain eagerly for the first sign of excitement. About ten o'clock he saw by the Skipper's actions that something of interest had come under his observation.

There were a number of quick, sharp orders given and Juarez noticed the increased volume of smoke pouring from the stack. The Sea Eagle began to show the speed that was in her trim, black form. Juarez worked around the port side of the boat as rapidly as he dared, and his heart leaped with hope.

He saw low upon the eastern horizon a smudge of black smoke. If he only had known what the Skipper knew, his hopes would have risen still higher. Certain preparations were going on upon deck. The three cannon, one in the stern, that had fired the salute to the group on the shore, one on either side of the quarter-deck, were divested of their canvas jackets.

They certainly gleamed bravely in their polished brass. Then the ammunition was got ready beside each separate gun. It begin to look like business. The Sea Eagle began to justify her name and fly through the water. Still the spot upon the horizon grew bigger.

Then Juarez began to have a paralyzing feeling of doubt. The steamer, though coming up fast, did not seem to be steering the proper course to head the Sea Eagle, bearing on her port-quarter instead of across her bows as would have been the natural course if she wished to intercept her.

Then the doubt in his mind was changed to disappointed certainty for the Skipper waved his hand to the mate, who was busy on the deck below. It was after he had taken a pull at the spyglass, which this time seemed to have an intoxicating effect upon the Captain.

"It's all right, Bill," he yelled, "It's nothing but a steamer bound for 'Frisco. It looks like the Panama."

Juarez and Tom resumed their work doggedly. That was all that was left for them to do. They scarcely glanced at the big steamer as she appeared, growing constantly larger above the horizon, and then diminishing as she steamed North towards San Francisco.

Juarez was scrubbing the deck near a cabin door when it suddenly opened, and a tall, long-legged figure stepped out and fairly over him. He came to the conclusion that it was the man who had come aboard the night before.

He took in the tall, gaunt man with the smooth-shaven face and long hair at two glances—one not being sufficient to his height.

"Well, who are you?" he inquired lounging on the rail and regarding Juarez with mild-eyed interest.

"I'm Juarez Hopkins, deck scrubber. Who are you?"

"I'm James Howell, sheep farmer. I'll add you two lambs to my flock," he replied, whimsically, glancing at Tom who was down the deck a way.

"You are more apt to find us wolves in lamb's hide," retorted Juarez. "Where's your farm?"

"There," said the stranger, pointing with a long, bony finger on the port-quarter, "that nigh island."

Then Juarez saw to his surprise, two islands that seemed to have sprung like magic upon the South-eastern horizon. The further one lay long and low and dark but distant beneath the fog-lined sky, the "nigh one" was more short and dumpy in appearance.



CHAPTER XX

TO THE RESCUE

During the afternoon, everything had been made ready for the journey of the morrow. There was not a great deal to be done for the three rescuers would travel light. There would be no need of a pack animal, because the Senor had assured the boys that they would find hospitality on the way.

Jo however was in mourning because when he gave his black a trial gallop, it was discovered that he was badly lamed in the right knee. It would not have been safe for any of the pirate gang to come within range of Jo's wrath.

"The cursed brutes stove him up for fair," he declared grinding his teeth.

"I'm afraid it will take a month's rest before he will be fit," determined Jim.

"Then I'm out of it," exclaimed Jo sorrowfully.

"Not so, my friend," interrupted the Spaniard. "Take the bay. He is not as good a horse as yours, but he has great endurance. He is yours to use as long as you wish."

Jo thanked the Spaniard heartily for his kindness and generosity. Then he spoke in a low voice to his brother. "How about that money, Jim? Don't forget to pay the Spaniard for those goods we bought at the store." Jim spoke up.

"Senor, I wish to show you a little something of interest."

Then Jim got his heavy saddle, on which he had ridden so many hundred miles. And the Senor regarded it with interest, because of the carved leather workmanship which was of the finest and he was a connoisseur of such matters.

"How much would you give for it, Senor Sebastian," inquired Jim, "if it were put up for purchase?"

"It is a beautiful saddle. I would be willing to give a hundred dollars. It is worth it."

"That saddle is worth several thousand, Senor," replied Jim confidently.

"I do not understand," replied the Spaniard. "It is the personal value, I suppose."

"I will show you," said Jim.

Then he took from his hip pocket a heavy bone handled knife which he had bought at the store and pulled back the hoof cleaner, an instrument attached to the knife that was used to get a pebble or anything that had got into the horse's hoof.

With this he worked at the leather that covered the high and rather thick horn of the saddle. Finally he pried the top leather flap off. There was a heavy piece fitted into the top of the horn. With some difficulty Jim got this out disclosing a hollow, in which was concealed most of the jewels he had found in Mexico.

"Hold your hands, Jo. Tight now." And with the word he emptied the contents of the horn into Jo's palms. Diamonds, rubies, turquoises and some heavy gold pieces.

"That is what you might call a horn of plenty," said Jim jocosely.

"But!" cried the Spaniard in amazement, "where did you get these?"

"In Mexico," replied Jim. "This was what the Pirates were after. And they got all but this. Sometime I will tell you the story of its discovery. Now take this to reimburse you, Senor, for the money we spent at the store." And he held out the diamond.

"That is far too much. That stone is worth five hundred dollars at least," said the Spaniard. "These three rubies would be more exact and I will take them."

Jim, handing over the three stones selected, said, "Now, Senor, you shall take the diamond as a token of good will from my brother and myself."

"We insist upon it," chimed in Jo.

Finally the Spaniard accepted the gifts with many protestations of obligation and appreciation. Jo was about to urge him to accept a jewel for his sister, but Jim stopped him, knowing that the proud Spaniard would not hear to such a present.

The next morning they were up an hour before daylight and ate a hearty breakfast by the light of the candles. Veterans though they were, the boys felt a thrill go through their pulses as they thought of the expedition that lay before them. Outside they could hear the pawing of the impatient horses.

"To the success of our expedition and the rescue of our friends!" was the toast the Spaniard proposed as they rose from the table. The Frontier Boys drank it, but not in wine. They felt just a little foolish too, but such is the reward that often comes with doing what is right. But they were sturdy in their determination to stick to their principles.

If they had only known it, down in his heart the Spaniard respected them the more, even though it seemed odd to him.

Then they went out on the verandah, fully armed and ready to take their departure. Two oil lamps near the door and fastened to the wall, backed by shining reflectors sent a strong light across the verandah and into the darkness outside.

There stood the three horses, eager to be off, each one held by a Mexican groom. Caliente we already know, and the horse that Jo is to ride also. So let us take a glance at the third animal, Don Fernando. He evidently justified all the enthusiasm of his master, a truly splendid creature.

A dark chestnut, as large as Caliente and built on something the same lines. They were beautifully matched except in color. It was with a thrill of pleasure that Jim swung himself into the saddle. His mount was in fine fettle and ready for the long pull ahead.

They started from the home ranch with a thunder of hoofs in unison, the riders checking their horses to a slow gallop with a heavy hand. Together they pressed through the waning darkness. There was a wonderful exhilaration, as they leaped forward, the horses powerful and fresh.

Instead of following in the direction of the morning before, the Spaniard turned to the East until they came near the foot of the range. In a short time they came to a gate, which seemed to open mysteriously as they approached, but the motive power proved to be a small Mexican boy, whom the Senor had sent on ahead.

Now they were on a turf road with bushes on either side and down this they thundered, Caliente the gray, and Don Fernando the dark, matching stride for stride, with Jo well in the rear. For he found if he rode close up he was blinded and stung by sods and stones thrown back from the flying hoofs of the two horses in the front.

It was a bit lonely for Jo and he wished that one of the other boys was here to keep him company. As they rode, the bushes seemed to fly by as they do when you look from a railroad train and Jo was afraid lest his horse would be unable to keep the pace indefinitely. One thing in Jo's favor was that he was the lightest of the three and what is more to the purpose a very light rider.

So like the good horseman he was, he determined to save his horse all he could and make him last out. For eight miles or more they rode without a stop until they came to another gate. This the Spaniard unfastened and swung open without dismounting, then closed it after Jo.

The morning light was now distinct, although the fog was over the sky. Before them stretched a long level plain that broke into sand dunes near the sea. They could see the ocean lying dark in its monotonous level of color, to the Western horizon.

"We have just left the Sebastian ranch," called the Spaniard.

"It is immense," commented Jim. "May I ask how many acres it embraces?"

"It was immense in the old days," replied the Spaniard. "Before your people took possession of the land. It was held by no fences then. But your laws were not ours and we lost many square miles. Now there are fifty thousand acres under fence."

"Fifty thousand acres!" exclaimed Jo.

"Ah, but it was double that before the Americans came," replied the Spaniard. Then he glanced critically at Caliente. "Your horse looks as cool as though he had been standing in the stable. The pace does not affect his wind either. Splendid condition!"

"Caliente is as hard as nails," said Jim proudly. "But your horse has wonderful speed."

The chestnut seemed more on edge than the old warrior, Caliente, and tossed the foam from his bit, until his dark coat was speckled with it.

"He is high strung," said the Spaniard, "but I would back him against any horse flesh in California. We can let them out here for a half dozen miles."

"Let her go, Senor. I won't let you lose me."

At the word the Spaniard gave his chafing horse his head and away the chestnut sprang in the lead. It was slightly down grade for a mile, then there was a gulch twelve feet wide and of considerable depth. It was a good jump and to make it saved a little distance. Going at top speed the chestnut took the jump in fine style. His rider half turned in his saddle to watch Jim's effort. Caliente had faced worse leaps than that, he rose to it and swept over it as gracefully as a bird.

"Good fellow!" exclaimed Jim patting him affectionately on the neck.



CHAPTER XXI

THE BANDITS

When Jo saw the gulch ahead, he decided that discretion was the better part of valor as he did not know his mount well enough to risk the leap, so he galloped a few hundred feet below, where the gulch narrowed and then he took the jump nicely, and scampered after the other two riders who were quite a way ahead.

Jim purposely held Caliente in check, keeping a hundred yards in the rear of the Spaniard. Ahead a few miles, there was a perfect sea of yellow where the tall mustard covered the plain for a great distance. Into this they charged full tilt, the mustard reaching as high as their heads.

There was a swish of its blossoms in their faces as the powerful horses charged into it and in spite of their strength they began to tire after going some distance.

"Where is Jo?" inquired Jim suddenly after they had slowed down, "I don't see a sign of him." And he rose in his stirrups looking over the level lake of mustard.

"Hello, Jo," he yelled at the top of his voice. No answer came. Could he be drowned in this lake? There was not a motion to indicate his whereabouts, no waving of the yellow tops.

"It is very strange," said the Spaniard. "Did he cross the gully all right?"

"Yes, I saw him take the jump below us a ways." Then Jim raised his revolver above his head and fired.

"That ought to fetch him," he said. Then they listened intently. Suddenly about a quarter of a mile ahead of them they saw a sombrero rise like a gray mushroom above the yellow surface of the mustard, and Jo's voice came back to them.

They both gave their horses the rein, this time Jim did nothing to hold Caliente back, and with their powerful speed the two great horses tore forward, on even terms until in the last hundred yards Caliente forged ahead by half a length.

"Hold on boys," yelled Jo in warning. There was Jo sitting quietly on his horse.

"That's how you beat us," exclaimed Jim, pointing to a cow trail running diagonally through the growth of mustard.

"Yes," laughed Jo, "I struck it further down after I jumped the gully. Otherwise you fellows would have lost me."

"Good work, Jo," said Jim. "Now we will have it easier going."

So in single file they galloped along the path, until they found themselves by noon, at the foot of a spur of mountains that extended from the main coast range to the ocean. Jim regarded this barrier in their way with a practised eye.

"This will slow us down, Senor," he said. "It looks like a pass below there, about two miles."

"Yes," said the Senor, "we can get through there all right, but it is pretty rough going."

They had to advance more slowly now, as the ground was broken into stony ravines, and there was a good deal of brush. In this kind of country Jo's horse more than held its own with the bigger animals, for he was as nimble as a goat.

"I hope we will find water, Senor," remarked Jim. "Our horses are pretty dry now."

"Yes," replied the Spaniard, "there is a good spring at the foot of the Pass."

They found it all right, in the entrance to the Pass, where there was a small green cove, surrounded with bushes, and on one side was a sheep herder's shanty. Jo investigated this immediately and found nothing in it but the charred remnants of a fire and a pair of discarded overalls.

Jim, who had himself been looking around, made a more important find.

"There has been somebody here recently," he announced. "Here are some tracks around the spring and not over twelve hours old."

"Yes, I have no doubt," said the Spaniard carelessly puffing at his cigarette. "This Pass is used occasionally by ranchmen and herders."

"There have been five or six horses here," said Jim, whose experiences had made him suspicious.

"There are no Indians," said Jo, "in this section, at least none who are on the warpath."

"I suppose you do have cattle rustlers, Senor?" inquired Jim.

"Yes, there is a band of outlaws," replied the Spaniard, "that raids from as far north as our ranch, south to San Diego, but we have seen no trace of them for many months."

"Then, Senor," remarked Jim, "it is about time that they paid you another visit."

"Ah, Senor Darlington," exclaimed the Spaniard. "We Castilians do not reason so. We say that there is no trouble today, why worry about tomorrow. Perhaps these bandits may have starved to death, or been hung, or the good Padres may have persuaded them by the fear of Hell, to become quiet, sheep raising citizens. God knows."

"I fear that they are raising sheep in their old style," grinned Jo. The pun glanced off the Spaniard harmlessly.

"The theory that they may be hung, sounds plausible, Senor," admitted Jim. "But before we advance into the Pass, I will scout a little."

"If the Senor pleases," responded the Spaniard courteously.

"Do you chance to know of a small, hunchbacked Mexican who is more or less in this section of the country, Senor?" Jim suddenly inquired.

The Spaniard flushed with red anger and spit emphatically on the ground.

"You give him into my hands and I will reward you well," cried the Spaniard.

Jim made no immediate reply but gazed thoughtfully at the ground. He was considering the case. This was not the time to turn aside in a chase for even so desperate a criminal as the hunchbacked greaser. So he made no definite reply to the Spaniard.

After the horses were fed, and watered, and while Jo was looking after the coffee, Jim started off, to do a little scouting up the Pass. The first thing that he did was to slip off his heavy riding boots, which the stylish Jo had forced him to buy, and to put on his noiseless footed moccasins.

Then with his revolver loaded and ready to his hand, he went swiftly and silently up the trail that followed through thick brush, gradually working up the side of the mountain. It was no difficult task to follow the tracks of the horses. In a half hour's swift climbing he came to the top of a stony ridge, over which the trail curved, and dipped down the other side.

Jim now saw that the Pass was an irregular one with recurrent spurs, thrusting out from the mountains on either side, at quite frequent intervals. There were innumerable chances for ambuscades. Jim did not stand in the trail but to one side partially hidden in a thicket.

All the time his keen eyes were taking in the canyon below, not however admiring the scenery. In fact there was nothing particularly beautiful, or interesting in the view. In the Rockies and further South too he had seen canyons incomparable to the rather ordinary ones that he had seen in California.

Jim was watching for some slight movement of a living creature in the canyon. Finally he gave it up, and was about to turn away, then he gave a start, he saw one, two, three, men crouch across the trail, a quarter of a mile below, and disappear into the thick brush. He was almost certain that the first one was the hunchback.

That was all that Jim wanted to see. He noiselessly took the back trail, thinking over the best course to pursue. He would have liked nothing better under ordinary circumstances than to fight it out with the outlaws and to capture the hunchback. But their first object must be the rescue of Tom and Juarez.

Was there not some way by which they could get to the South without going through this bandit infested Pass?

"Well brother, what didst thou find?" inquired Jo, who was at times pleased to be dramatic.

"Very few specimens in the way of bandits," replied Jim.

"As I said, Senor," remarked the Spaniard, "they have become good citizens."

"Not yet, I am sure, because they are alive."

"That is a good one, Jim," remarked Jo, appreciatively, but the Spaniard was politely mystified. "Same as Indians."

"I found one thing out," said the diplomatic Jim, "and that is, that the Pass is a hard one on horses. Are you sure, Senor, that there is no easier way than this to get through?"