CHAPTER XVII—THE CARRYING OFF OF LITTLE BECKY
Andy fell back and stared at his cousin helplessly when he heard this startling announcement.
Meanwhile Frank had started in to assist Charley Woo cut the rope which had been so cruelly used to make the housekeeper a prisoner. Then he helped her to regain her feet, for she had sank down utterly exhausted as soon as released.
But Mrs. Ogden was a sensible woman, and she was trying the best she knew how to recover her speech; so that presently Frank thought it time to ask her something about what had happened.
“He must have crept in through the open window!” she gasped. “I thought the night wind had started blowing the blind, and got up to fix it, when he caught hold of me, and that was the last I knew until I came to my senses and found myself bound, and with a towel fastened across my face so that I could not cry out, when he was just passing out of the window. In the moonlight I could see that he held a bundle in his arms, and I knew what it must be. Oh! what will Mr. Witherspoon say when he learns how I have let that sweet child be taken away from under my eyes.”
That seemed to be the main cause for her distress; she thought nothing at all about her own sufferings, but was only concerned about what her employer would think because she had not been able to prevent the kidnapping of the child.
Though Andy had not yet recovered his voice, and was groping in the dark with regard to what it all meant, Frank, clearer visioned, had already made a pretty straight guess. He immediately started to ask a few questions, and each one of them went straight to the point.
“Did you see the man clearly, Mrs. Ogden?” he demanded; and somehow the housekeeper seemed to feel something of the same confidence in Frank that his manner nearly always produced in those who were in distress.
“No, because the moon was on the other side of the house,” she replied; “and besides, he seemed to have some sort of bandanna handkerchief fastened around the lower part of his face as a disguise.”
“And did he say anything that you heard, anything that would give you a clue with regard to who he was?” Frank went on to ask. “I remember that when he first caught me by the throat he did utter a low word, and it was a Mexican word, too,” she answered, slowly, as though her mind might not yet be working as clearly as usual.
“That is a point, then, to be remembered,” the boy insisted, “and here’s something that might give us another clue.”
He picked an object up from the floor, and held it aloft.
“A Mexican sombrero!” exclaimed Andy, recovering his speech at last.
“Just what it is,” said Frank, steadily, “and as is the habit with these men from over the border, this one is decorated heavily with silver beads, and gold buttons, as well as filigree work. One of these hats is worth a lot of money, and the owner is as proud of it as a lady would be of her magnificent diamonds at the opera. Please try and think, Mrs. Ogden, did you ever see this sombrero before?”
He held it up in front of her eyes, slowly turning it around, so that she might observe every part in turn.
The housekeeper uttered a low bubbling cry. Evidently the truth had flashed into her mind, and she was no longer groping in the dark. “Yes, yes, I do remember seeing that hat, Frank, Andy!” she exclaimed.
“On the head of a certain gentleman who went by the name of Jose Sandero?” pursued the boy, as if trying to aid her memory.
“No other, though it was some years ago!” she cried. “They always decorate each new hat in the same way as the last. And when he was here that time to demand his child, only to hear that the court had given her into the keeping of Mr. Witherspoon, Jose Sandero wore just such a sombrero. Oh! it was him, all right; and the poor little darling has been carried off by her own unworthy father. He will make for the border as fast as horses can carry him, hoping to be safe beyond the line before the return of Mr. Witherspoon.”
Frank had already guessed this much. It looked like a serious proposition; but then he was a boy not easily daunted. The more difficult the task the greater was Frank Bird’s resolution apt to be aroused.
First of all it seemed essential that the ranchman must be notified of what had happened and that as quickly as possible. They were many miles away, and doubtless much valuable time would be lost, even after the messenger reached the round-up camp, since the boys would be off here and there engaged in their work of gathering the cattle for the purpose of picking out unbranded stock, and driving it in to be marked, after it had been roped and thrown.
Meanwhile, it was necessary that they find out if possible which way the kidnapper had gone; though the chances were ten to one the direction would be south. There were several reasons for believing this. In the first place Mexico lay in that quarter; and doubtless across the border Jose Sandero had prepared a hiding place where he could defy the United States courts to summon him. Perhaps he also had friends and comrades awaiting him there, who would defend him against any pursuit of the Double X Ranch cow punchers, bent on recovering the child and punishing the bold abductor.
Frank stepped over to the window, and looked out.
It happened that just below the earth was soft, for Mr. Witherspoon had made a brave effort to have certain flowering shrubs bloom near the house, and several pink oleanders and scarlet hibiscus did manage to survive the heat, being carefully watered each morning and evening by Charley Woo with his hose. And looking closely Frank could see the mark of footprints. He climbed out of the window and began to follow them, Andy being quickly at his side, bubbling over with indignation and breathing all sorts of dire threats against the bad man who had for some reason other than affection chosen to steal the child to whom he no longer had any claim, selecting the very time when the punchers would be far away from the ranch house, which he had expected would be practically left unprotected.
Frank kept on following the tracks until finally he came to the now almost empty corral, where the riding horses were kept when the boys were at home.
“See,” Frank observed, “here is where he had his pony tied—there were two of them, Andy, showing that he came here with the intention of carrying little Becky off.”
“Yes,” added Andy, “and now we ought to learn which way he went. But Frank, there’s hardly a pony fit to ride except Alkali Joe’s mount in the corral. They took every one along for use in the rough work of the round-up. Uncle says he will have to break in a lot more right away. They’ve been losing a large number lately, you remember. Heads into the south, don’t it, Frank?”
“Yes, just as I thought it would,” muttered the other coming to a stand, and looking away off over the level stretch of plain, as though he wished he had eyes strong enough to discover the fleeing marauder, miles and miles away though he must be before now.
“Poor little Becky, how frightened she must be to find herself being carried off by that man,” remarked Andy, his voice trembling with feeling; and he had to stop speaking to grit his teeth, as anger almost overwhelmed him. “Of course he’s told her before now that he is her father; but that won’t make her feel any better, because she has heard enough from the boys to know that Jose is a bad man, who deserted her mother, and was in one way the cause of her death. Whatever do you suppose he did it for, Frank; not that he could care about Becky, who looks too much like her mother did to ever make him love her? More’n likely now, he’s gone to all this trouble, and risked his neck in the bargain, just to get even with Uncle Jethro.”
“I wouldn’t be much surprised if you’ve hit the nail on the head, Andy,” observed the other soberly. “But the question is, what are we going to do about it, for it seems to me it’s up to us pretty much to start something moving.”
Andy suddenly looked up eagerly.
“Tell you what, Frank!” he exclaimed, “we’ve got something better than ponies to take us over the ground to where Uncle Jethro and the boys are at work. What’s going to hinder us from making use of the biplane to cover these miles of space? Why, we can just whizz down there, and carry the news!”
Frank appeared to be thinking, for he did not make any remark in answer to this bright suggestion on the part of his chum.
“Look,” Andy went on to remark, “if there isn’t Alkali Joe hobbling around on one foot with a cane to support him. Chances are, he’ll be asking us to let him ride for help, while we try and overtake the kidnapper; but that would be a terrible thing to let him do. Better send Charley Woo, if somebody has to go, and you don’t want to waste time by using the machine.”
“I was thinking why shouldn’t we set out straight on the track of Jose, using the biplane instead of ponies?” Frank suddenly broke out with.
“Good! Great stunt! It does take you to think up things, Frank. There I kept on beating about the bush, and saying we might carry the news to the boys, when all the time we had the opening before us to chase right after the skunk, hot-footed. And say, there’s those fine Marlin guns we used on the bear hunt; couldn’t we make out to carry a couple of that sort along with us, Frank? Oh! the way I feel right now, it wouldn’t take much to tempt me to put a chunk of lead in that Mexican, I tell you. How about that, Frank; ain’t we going armed, if we have to try and get our little ranch butterfly back again?”
“Of course, Andy; it would be silly to think of going without some sort of gun along. When you’re meaning to arrest a bad man you had ought to make sure you’re heeled so as to enforce your demands. We’ll take shooting-irons along in numbers enough to riddle him if it comes to a question of a stand-up fight. And now’s let’s hurry back to the house. Before we can get off there are a few things we must see to, you understand.”
“Then you don’t think we had better run over to where the boys are, first of all, and let them know?” Andy went on to ask, loth to let his suggestion be wholly thrown into the discard.
“A waste of time, when everything is going to depend on how fast we can overtake Jose and little Becky,” Frank asserted, firmly. “We can start Charley Woo off; or if necessary, Mrs. Ogden, who can ride nearly as well as a man, will go. Come, the sooner we start in the quicker we’ll be able to do something worth while.”
And Andy, duly impressed once more with the fact that Frank was able to handle the situation, if any one could, only too gladly hurried after his cousin when the latter headed for the house.
No one paid the least attention to the fact that it was a fine airy morning, for the catastrophe which had come upon Double X Ranch so suddenly had by this time filled their minds to the exclusion of everything else.
And it was an excited group that gathered by the horse block in front of the door—the housekeeper wringing her hands in anguish; Frank and Andy looking very determined; Charley Woo in a flutter; and Alkali Joe furious because of his crippled condition.