The Trail of The Badger: A Story of the Colorado Border Thirty Years Ago

In fact, by the expenditure of time and trouble, in addition to a very modest sum of money, we did at length put together a flume which, I think I may say, was a very creditable piece of work. It was strenuous and unceasing labor, and at first it was pretty hard on me, but as my muscles became used to the strain I enjoyed it more and more, especially as every evening showed a forward step – a small one, perhaps, but still a forward step – toward the accomplishment of our object.

Week after week we kept at it, steadily and perseveringly pegging away, and at last, one day near the end of July, summoning our six Mexicans to witness the ceremony, Dick and I, in alternate "licks" drove the last spike, and the flume was finished!

CHAPTER XIX
Pedro's Bold Stroke

All this time the wolves had let us alone. Frequently, toward evening, we would detect them standing on the hillsides watching us, but they were afraid to come near: the hammering and sawing, the stir and bustle checked them and they kept aloof – by daylight.

Every night, though, they came down to the edge of the cañon to howl at us, and as the flume neared completion there was danger that they might summon courage to cross by it – the old bridge we had long ago tumbled into the stream. To prevent this, we at first set up every night a temporary gate across it, but later, we adopted a safer and better plan. We set two doors in our flume, one in the down-stream end, the other in the side, about the middle, so that by closing the former and opening the latter, all the water could be made to fall into the stream below. Our supply could thus be regulated at the flume instead of going all the way up to the old head-gate for the purpose.

These gates being set, Pedro and another Mexican went up and opened connection between the lake and the low place where we had stirred up the deer the first day we were up there, and very soon there was a second little lake formed. Then, the flume being ready, we two and Pedro went up and raised the stone head-gate three inches. The rush with which the water came out was astonishing, and before the day was over it had come on down to the flume and was pouring through the side gate into the gorge – making a perfect defence against the wolves.

During the two months, or thereabouts, that we had been engaged in this work, Dick had made altogether three trips to Mosby, on which occasions he had written to Arthur, detailing our progress. Arthur, on his part, had written to us – or, rather, somewhat to our surprise, he had written to the professor instead of directly to Dick – once from Santa Fé and once from the City of Mexico, whither he had been sent to institute a search of the records there. His last letter stated that up to that time no trace of the old patent had been found, but that, in spite of that drawback, his father was vigorously stirring things up at his end of the line, and that we might expect to see "something doing" in the enemy's camp at any time. He stated also that he had hopes of rejoining us some time early in July.

In consequence, we had been constantly on the watch for him for nearly a month, but here was the end of July approaching and no Arthur had appeared.

As we were very anxious to know when to expect him, and as we were also in need of new supplies, the moment the flume was finished Dick set off once more for Mosby, while Pedro and I, transferring all our tools from the far side of the gorge, picked out a new working-ground on our side.

There was nothing further to be done on the "island," but though the flume was finished and ready for use, we still had need of a large amount of lumber in the construction of our ditch, for at the head of every draw it would be necessary to build a short flume, or, in some places, a culvert, to allow a passage for the rain-water which otherwise during the summer thunder-storm season would wash our ditch full of earth and rubbish.

As it would be too inconvenient, unfortunately, to cut lumber in the old place and carry it across the flume, we moved all the tools, as I said, over to our side, and following along the line of the ditch for about half a mile, we selected a spot above it on the mountain and there set our Mexicans to work felling trees and digging new saw-pits.

From the place selected we could see out over the plain in all directions; a fact which had been one of our reasons for choosing that particular spot.

Indeed it had become a matter of great importance that we should be able to keep a watch on the valley, for we believed we had more than ever reason to fear some act of hostility on the part of the padron. Dick had no more than gone that day, when we were surprised by receiving a daylight visit from our friend, José Santanna, who informed us that Galvez of late had been showing unwonted signs of unrest; that he was growing more and more suspicious, irritable and evil-tempered. That the evening before a man had ridden into the village and had handed Galvez a paper – some legal notice, I guessed – upon receipt of which the padron had at first broken into a towering rage; had then gone about for half a day in a mood so morose and snappish that no one dared go near him; and that finally he had ordered his horse and ridden away, saying that he was going to Taos.

"To Taos!" I exclaimed. "What has he gone to Taos for?"

José shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands, palms upward, as much as to say, "Who knows?"

"Have we scared him out after all, I wonder," said I. "Did he say anything about coming back, José?"

"He said he would return in four days," replied the Mexican.

"And is that all you know about it?"

"Si, señor, that is all. I know no more."

From this conversation it was plain to me that the law was beginning to work, and that Galvez was becoming uneasy. Knowing his character, I, too, became uneasy, for, should he be rendered desperate, there was no telling what tactics he might resort to. It was this consideration that made me so anxious for the safe return of my two partners.

From my vantage-point on the mountain I kept up a pretty constant watch for the next few days; no one could come across the valley from any direction without my seeing them – during daylight, that is – and unless Galvez had slipped into Hermanos after dark I was sure he had not returned, when, about three o'clock on the afternoon of the fourth day I espied Dick, a long way off, coming back from Mosby. It was twelve hours earlier than I had expected him, and wondering if he had any special reason for making such a quick trip, I got my pony and hurried off to meet him.

I had a feeling that Dick was bringing news of some sort, and his first words after shaking hands proved the correctness of my impression.

"Well, old chap!" he exclaimed. "I've got news for you this time that will make you 'sit up and take notice': – Arthur may be here any day; and he has at last got track of that patent."

"Got a letter from him, then, did you?" I asked.

"Yes; written from Cadiz, in Spain, more than three weeks ago."

"From Cadiz!" I cried. "What's he doing there?"

"His father sent him over to go through a chest of old papers they have in their house there. Arthur says – I'll give you his letter to read as soon as we get to camp – he says that he spent a fortnight reading all sorts of musty documents, without success, when at last he came upon an old note-book with the name of Arthur the First on its fly-leaf, and in that he found a single line referring to the patent – the only mention that has turned up anywhere."

"And what does that say?"

"It says – Here, wait a minute; hold my rifle. I'll show you what it says."

So saying, Dick took the letter out of his pocket, and finding the right place, handed it to me. The passage read: "It was an old memorandum-book in which my very great-grandfather used to note down all the particulars of the copper shipments and other matters dealing with the K. P. mine; but on the last fly-leaf was this entry, written in English: 'Mem. In case of accident to myself: The King's patent and the King's commission are in a hole in the wall above the door of the strong-room.' Where the strong-room may have been," Arthur went on, "I don't know, unless it is in the Casa. Ask Pedro."

"What do you think of that?" asked Dick.

"I think – Well, I think we'll do as Arthur says: ask Pedro."

In the course of an hour we had reached camp, when Dick, as soon as he had greeted the faithful Mexican, at once propounded the important question.

"Pedro," said he, without any preface, "did you ever hear of the 'strong-room'?"

"Surely," replied Pedro, with an air of surprise at being asked such a question. "Everybody knows the strong-room. It is a little room on the east side of the Casa; it has a door and no window; it is where one time the copper was stored, waiting for the pack-trains to come and take it away."

"It is, is it!" cried Dick. "Then, Frank, I shouldn't be a bit surprised if those deeds were in there now. How are we to find out?"

"Go and look!" I exclaimed, springing to my feet. "Now's our chance! Galvez is away – gone to Taos. Let us make a try for it at once. He's due to be back to-day, and then it will be too late. Come on! Let's get out! We haven't a minute to lose! Will you come with us, Pedro?"

To my surprise, and, I must confess, to my disappointment also, Pedro shook his head. I supposed he was afraid to leave his mountain, and for a moment my opinion of his courage suffered a relapse. But I was doing him an injustice, as I heartily owned to myself, when, pointing out over the valley, he said, quietly:

"It is too late already, señor. Look there!"

Half a mile the other side of Hermanos, riding toward the village, were three horsemen, one of whom we recognized as Galvez. Who the others might be, and why the padron should be bringing them to Hermanos, we could not guess. We were destined, however, to learn all about them later in the day.

As a matter of course, the sole subject of our thoughts and our conversation was the King's patent, and whether or not it was still in its hiding-place above the door of the strong-room. The only way to find out was to get in there and search for it, but how to do that was the question. Many plans did we discuss and discard, and we were still discussing as we sat round the fire that night – our Mexican workmen being encamped some distance away – when Pedro suddenly jumped up, and signaling to us to keep quiet, stood for a moment with his head bent forward, listening intently. His sharp ears had detected some sound inaudible to our less practised hearing.

Making a quick backward motion with his hand, he whispered sharply: "Get away! Get away back from the light of the fire while I go see!"

We speedily retreated up the hill a little way and hid ourselves among the trees, while Pedro, with the stealth of a wild animal, slipped silently off into the darkness. So quick and so noiseless were the movements of the clumsy-looking Mexican that I thought to myself I had rather be hunted by wolves than by that skilful woodsman, with his keen senses, his giant strength and his deadly, silent bow and arrow. I did not wonder any more that Galvez kept himself aloof.

For two or three minutes silence prevailed, when we saw Pedro step back into the circle of light, and with him another man. It was our friend, José Santanna, again.

"Well, José!" cried Dick. "What can we do for you?"

"Señor," replied the Mexican, "I came up to tell you something – to warn you. The padron is come back. He has been to Taos and he has brought back with him two men. They are bad – like himself. I go up to the Casa this evening while they are at supper and I hear them talking and laughing together through the door which is open. They say they like now to see three boys and a stupid peon" – he nodded toward Pedro – "get them out. They say if they catch Pedro they hang him, and if they catch 'that young Blake' they shoot him. They are dangerous, señor."

"We shall have to keep our eyes wide open," said Dick. "Do you think they'll venture up here, José?"

"I think not," replied the Mexican. "One of the men say, 'Let us go up on the mountain and catch them,' but the padron, he say very quick, 'No, no. I do not go up on the mountain. While they are there they do no harm, but if they come down here, then – !'"

"I see," said Dick. "They mean to hold the fort against all comers. It is pretty evident, I think, that Galvez has been back to his old haunts, hunted out a couple of his old-time cronies, and brought them back to garrison the Casa, meaning to defy the law to get him out."

"That's it, I expect," said I. "And our chances of getting into the strong-room are a good deal slimmer than ever."

It certainly did look so; yet, as it happened, I never made a greater mistake.

Who would have guessed how soon we were to get that chance? And who would have guessed that the man who was to provide the opportunity – and that by a plan so bold that I am astonished at it yet – was the man whom I had that day mentally accused of cowardice? How I did apologize to him in my thoughts!

"José," said Pedro, "does the padron still go to bed every night at ten o'clock, as he used to do?"

"Si," replied the cowman.

"Does he always come out to the well to get a drink of cold water just before he goes to bed, as he used to do?"

"Si," replied the cowman once more.

"Those two men, are they to sleep in that room next the padron's?"

"Si," replied the cowman for the third time.

"Good!" exclaimed Pedro. "What time is it, señor?" turning suddenly to Dick.

"Half past eight," replied my partner, looking at his watch.

"Good!" exclaimed Pedro once more.

For a minute he sat silent, his lower lip stuck out, frowning at the fire, while we sat watching him, wondering what he was thinking about, when, with an angry grunt he muttered to himself, "Stupid peon, eh! Humph! We'll see!" Then, jumping up, he said briskly: "Señores, get your horses. We will search the strong-room to-night."

Still wondering what scheme he had in his head, we saddled up and followed him as he rode down the mountain and out upon the plain, too much engaged for the moment in picking our way to find an opportunity to ask questions.

It seemed to me that our guide must have something of the wild animal in him, for, though it was very dark, he never hesitated for a moment, but went jogging along, threading his way through the sage-brush without a pause or a stumble. Either he or his burro must have had the cat-like gift of being able to see in the dark.

In about an hour we saw dimly the walls of the Casa looming up near us, and passing by it, we went on down to the creek where we dismounted and tied up our horses to the trees. Then, following down the creek for a short distance, we presently came opposite the front gate of the Casa, about a hundred yards distant. The village on the other side of the stream was dark and silent, but in one of the rooms in the Casa, facing the gateway, we could see a light burning.

"That is the padron's room," whispered José. "He has not gone to bed yet."

Against the light of the open door we could see between us and the house the long, black arm of the well-sweep, and advancing toward it, we had come within about thirty steps of it when Pedro requested us to stop there and lie down, while he himself went on and crouched behind the curbing of the well. We could not see him; in fact we could see nothing but the lights in the window and doorway, the well-sweep, and, very dimly, the outline of the building.

There we lay in dead silence for a quarter of an hour, wondering what Pedro expected to do, when we heard voices, and the next moment the figures of two men showed themselves in the lighted doorway. One of them carried a candle, and the pair of them went into the next room – all the rooms opened into the courtyard – and shut the door. For five minutes the light showed through the little window and then went out. The padron's friends had gone to bed.

For another five minutes we waited, and then the padron himself appeared. We could hear the jingle of his spurs as he came leisurely down to the well to get his nightly drink of cold water. We lay still, hardly daring to breathe.

Presently, we heard the squeak of the well-sweep and saw it come round, dip down and rise again. Then we heard the clink of a cup: Galvez was taking his drink. He never finished it!

At that moment Pedro's burly form rose up from behind the curbing; he took two steps forward, and with his great right hand he seized Galvez by the neck from behind, giving it such a squeeze that the unfortunate man could not utter a sound. We heard the cup fall to the ground with a clatter.

Then, grasping the helpless padron by the back of his trousers, the little giant swung him off his feet and hoisting him high above his head, stepped to the rim of the curbing. The next moment there was a muffled splash – Galvez had been dropped into the well!

He had been dropped in feet foremost, however, and as the well was only twelve feet deep with four feet of water in it, his life was not endangered.

At this point we all jumped up and ran forward, reaching the well just as Galvez recovered his feet, as we could tell by the coughing and spluttering noises which came up from below. As we approached, Pedro leaned over the coping and said in a low voice:

"Good-evening, Padron. This is Pedro Sanchez. If you make any noise I drop the bucket of water on your head."

This gentle hint was not lost upon Galvez, who contented himself with muttered growlings of an uncomplimentary nature, when Pedro, turning to Dick, whispered sharply:

"Run quick now to the strong-room. I stay here to guard the padron."

In company with the barefooted José, we ran into the courtyard, where the Mexican pointed out to us the door of the strong-room, the first on the right, and while Dick and I pulled it open, taking great care to make no noise, José himself ran on to the padron's room, whence he quickly returned with a candle in his hand.

While Dick stood guard outside, in case the padron's two friends should come out, I slipped into the little room, where, finding an empty barrel, I placed it in front of the doorway, jumped upon it, and taking my sheath-knife, I stabbed at the adobe wall just above the lintel of the door. The second or third stroke produced a hollow sound and brought down a shower of dried mud, when, vigorously attacking the spot, I soon uncovered a little board which had been let into the wall and plastered over with adobe.

In a few seconds I had pried this out, when I found that the space behind it was hollow, and thrusting in my hand I brought out a brass box shaped like a magnified cigar-case.

"Dick!" I whispered, eagerly. "I've found something! Come in here!"

My partner quickly joined me, when we pried open the box, finding that it contained a parcel wrapped up in a piece of cloth. Imagine our excitement when on tearing off the wrapping we found that the contents of the package consisted of two parchment documents, written in Spanish! We had no time to examine them thoroughly, but a hasty glance convincing us that we had indeed found what we sought, and there being nothing else in the hole, I crammed the parchments back into the box, shoved the box into my pocket, buttoned my coat, and away we went back to the well.

"Find it?" whispered Pedro.

I replied by patting my pocket.

Pedro nodded; and then, having first lowered the bucket into the well again, he leaned over the coping and said softly:

"Padron, you may come out now as soon as you like."

With that, leaving Galvez to climb out if he could, or to remain where he was if he couldn't, we all turned and ran for it.

Having recovered our horses, José bolted for home, while we went off as fast as we dared in the darkness for camp.

There, by the light of the fire, we examined our capture. One of the parchments was the commission of old Arthur the First to the "Governorship" of the King Philip mine; the other was the original "Grant" of the Hermanos tract from Philip V, King of Spain, the Indies and a dozen other countries, to his trusty and well-beloved subject, Arturo Blake.

"This is great!" cried Dick. "This will settle the title without any chance of dispute. Galvez may as well pack up and go now. I wonder what he'll do?"

"I don't know what Galvez will do," said I; "but I can tell you what we must do, Dick. We must cut and run. This patent must be put away in a safe place – and it isn't safe here by any means. Galvez will be about crazy with rage at having been dropped into the well; and for another thing, he'll see that hole above the door, and he'll know that whatever it was we took out of the hole, it must be something of importance to have induced us to come raiding his premises like that."

"That's true," said Dick, nodding his head.

"And I shouldn't be a bit surprised," I continued, "now that he has two other unscrupulous rascals to back him, if he were to come raiding us in return. What do you think, Pedro?"

"I think it is likely," replied the Mexican. "I think it is well that you go, and stop the Señor Blake from coming here. Those men are dangerous. For me, I have no fear: I can take care of myself."

"Then we'll skip," said Dick. "It's safest; and it's only for a time, anyhow, for, of course, Galvez's legal ejection is certain, sooner or later, now that we have the patent in our hands. So we'll get out, Frank, the very first thing to-morrow."

It was the night of July 28th that we came to this resolution; though, as a matter of fact, we were not aware of it at the time, for we had lost track of the days of the month. It was the astounding event of the day following that impressed the date so indelibly on our memories.

Men plot and plan and calculate and contrive, thinking themselves very clever; but how feeble they are when Dame Nature steps in and takes a hand, and how easily she can upset all their calculations, we were to learn, once for all, that coming day.