The Pony Rider Boys in Texas (18 page)

Mr. McClure caught the lad's inquiring gaze fixed upon him. He nodded.

"Is anything wrong?" asked the rancher's wife.

"Yes; I am afraid there is," he answered quietly.

"What is it?"

"I am not sure. Perhaps I should not alarm you young gentlemen, but I think
you should know."

"At the camp, you mean?" asked Tad.

"Yes."

"What's that?" demanded Professor Zepplin sharply. "Something wrong at the
camp?"

"My men think so. They say they hear shooting off in that direction, and want
to know if they shall ride out."

"You think it is aa" began Tad.

"A stampede? Yes; I should not be surprised."

"We must go," announced the lad, rising promptly.

"Why go?" asked Margaret.

"We may be needed."

"But my men have started already," replied the rancher. "They surely will be
help enough."

"Mr. Stallings will expect us. We may be able to be of some assistance."

"Well, if you must. Yes; you are right. Business is business, even when one
is out on a pleasure trip. It's a good sign in a young man. Tell your foreman
that he may call upon us to any extent."

"Thank you, I will," replied Tad.

Bidding their hosts a hasty good night, and promising to be on hand at the
appointed hour on the following day if the condition of the herd permitted, the
Pony Rider Boys ran for their ponies. In a few moments they were racing toward
camp. They, too, were now able to hear the short, spiteful bark of the
six-shooters.

It was a significant sound. They had heard it too many times before not to
understand it. In their minds they could see the hardy cowboys riding in front
of the unreasoning animals, shooting into the ground in front of them, seeking
to check the rush.

"What do you think about this business?" asked Tad Butler, drawing up beside
Ned Rector.

"I think there is more in this spook story than Colonel McClure knows of, or,
at least, will admit."

"So do I," answered Tad.

"We'll know when we hear how it happened."

Tad remembered, at that moment, the hasty departure of Ruth Brayton.

"I wonderI wonder," muttered the boy to himself.

"I told you so."

"You have told me so many things, Big-foot, that I can't remember them all,"
laughed Tad. "What is it this time?"

"Trouble."

"Oh, you mean the stampede last night?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about it. You know I was not here when it started."

After a hard night's work, in which the Pony Rider Boys had toiled
heroically, the cattle once more had been rounded up and Big-foot and Tad Butler
were riding into camp for breakfast. It was the first opportunity they had found
to talk over the incident.

"Not much to tell. It happened so quick"

"What time?" interrupted Tad.

"'Bout half-past nine, I reckon."

"Half-past nine," muttered the lad thoughtfully. "Yes; go on."

"We were sitting by the camp fire, and Curley Adams was telling about the
time he was mixed up with the rustlers on the Colorado."

"Yes."

"Well, them ponies came down on us a-whooping."

"The ponies? Did they get away, too?" asked the lad in surprise.

"Did they? You ought to have seen the varmints. Nearly run over us when they
smashed through the camp. One jumped clean over the fire."

"Yes, I understand; but did you have any idea why the cattle stampeded?"

"Sure. The ponies put them on the run."

"The ponies started it?"

"Yes. No telling how it happened. The cows come a-running after the ponies
had broke through them, and the whole outfit piled over the camp."

"Do any damage?"

"I reckon. Knocked over the chuck wagon, and near killed the heathen Chinee.
The men on guard roped the runaway ponies, and, by the time you got on the job,
we had just about got straightened around ready to go after the cows."

"I suppose you lay it to"

"Adobe church," answered the cowman conclusively.

"I am going over there to-day, Big-foot. I am going to try to find out if
there is anything in all this. Candidly, I don't believe it. Even Colonel
McClure says it's all foolishness. That is, I do not believe it is anything that
cannot be explained."

The foreman was looking worried that morning. It had been a succession of
disasters ever since they had neared the locality. This time it had been the
ponies which were hobbled some little distance from the herd, but which had
become so frightened at what they saw that they bolted, hobbles and all.

"I want those cows from the McClure ranch brought over to-day," Stallings
directed. "At least, bring over half of them. Get them over right after
breakfast. If we are going to have any more disturbances let's try to have them
in the daytime."

"Do you need us?" asked Tad.

"No. Go on and enjoy yourselves. You all have earned a holiday."

The lads were in their saddles early. Professor Zepplin went with them,
intending to spend the day at the ranch as arranged on the previous evening.

The young ladies of the household were waiting, dressed in short skirts and
wearing broad-brimmed straw hats. To the boys they were most attractive. Their
fresh young faces lighted with anticipation of the day's pleasure as, assisted
by the Pony Riders, they swung into their saddles. It fell to Tad Butler to ride
beside Miss Brayton.

"We had a stampede at the camp last night," he told her after they had headed
off to the east for the Springs, which was to be their first objective
point.

"Yes; so uncle told me. I'm sorry. Did you lose any stock?"

"I believe not, unless it was some of the new ponies. I did not think to
ask."

"At what time did the trouble occur?" she asked absently.

"I think it was shortly after you left us at dinner, last night," answered
Tad, in a matter-of-fact tone. "It was, perhaps, half an hour after that when
your uncle told us."

Miss Brayton flushed painfully, and quickly changed the subject. Tad noticed
her confusion and marveled at it.

Arriving at the Springs, which proved to be a group of rocks rising out of
the plain, and from which several springs of pure sparkling water bubbled, all
dismounted and drank of the refreshing fluid. After a few moments spent in
chatting, they remounted their ponies and set off for the adobe church, the real
object of the day's journey.

Reaching the historic place, they tethered their ponies among the mesquite
bushes in the rear of it, after which all entered through a crumbling doorway.
The interior, they found, was in an excellent state of preservation.

Many surprising little alcoves and odd, cell-like rooms were distributed all
through the church. It was dark and cool in there. Chunky shivered, and said he
didn't wonder people said there were spooks there.

"Is there any cellar beneath the church?" asked Tad.

"It has been said that there were once underground passages," answered Miss
Brayton. "No one in our time has ever discovered them."

"That sounds interesting. I think I should like to find the way into
them."

"So should I," added Stacy Brown.

"Look out that you don't fall in," cautioned Ned. "Remember that's your
failing."

"Not much chance of that," laughed Margaret. "These stone floors are too
thick for anyone to fall through."

"Does anyone ever come here?" asked Tad.

"Not that I know of," answered Miss Brayton.

"But I saw a path when I came in. Somebody has been hitching a pony out there
in the bushes, too," said the boy.

"Perhaps some of the cowmen may come in here out of the heat, now and then,"
replied the young woman carelessly.

"Why Ruth, you could not induce one of papa's men to enter the door of the
old place. You know they are half scared to death of it," said Margaret.

Chunky's eyes were growing large.

"Wow!" he said. "Let's go out doors and eat."

"The lunch has not yet arrived. It will be here soon," Miss Brayton informed
him. "We will spread it in the main room here, if you have no objections. It
will be cool and pleasant; and, besides, there are no flies in here."

"For goodness' sake, forget your appetite," growled Ned in Stacy's ear.

"Can't a fellow talk about his appetite without being found fault with?"
Chunky sulkily retorted.

"Not the kind of an appetite you have. It's a positive disgrace to the
outfit."

"Huh!" grunted Chunky, walking away.

The lad wandered off by himself, and the rest forgot all about him in their
investigation of the old church. Miss Brayton told them as much of its history
as she knew.

"Some of the former priests are said to have been buried somewhere in the
edifice," she said.

"I don't see any signs of it," said Tad.

"No. No one ever has in our time. And it has even been hinted that treasure
has been buried here, too, or secreted in some of the mysterious recesses of the
church."

"Where are they" asked Walter. "I am beginning to get curious."

"I am sure I do not know," laughed the young woman. "There is a sort of
garret, if you can get to it, above the gallery there. Maybe you might find
something there. I have an idea that it is inhabited by bats."

"I guess we will leave them undisturbed," decided Tad. "I don't like
bats."

"There come the servants," announced Miss Brayton. "Now your friend will be
able to satisfy his appetite."

At her direction the servants brought in the baskets of food. A cloth was
spread over a stone table that they found at the far end of the church in the
balcony. What its use had been, in those other days, they did not know, but it
served their purpose very well now.

"I am afraid we shall have to eat standing," said Miss Sadie. "We have no
chairs."

"That will suit Chunky," replied Ned Rector. "He always likes to eat
standing."

"Why?" asked Margaret, glancing up at him inquiringly.

"For some reasons of his own," answered Ned mischievously.

As the good things were spread before them the eyes of the lads lighted
appreciatively, and all helped themselves gratefully.

It was a jolly party, untouched by the air of mystery that was supposed to
surround the place.

"Why, where is Master Stacy?" asked Ruth Brayton in surprise, after they had
been eating a few moments.

"Chunky? That's so, where is he?" demanded Walter, glancing over the railing
into the auditorium below.

No one seemed to know.

"He's prowling around the place somewhere," said Ned. "But what surprises me
is that he doesn't scent the food and come running. It's not like him to hang
back when there is anything good to eat."

"Call him," suggested Margaret.

"I will. O-h-h Chunky!"

There was no reply.

"I will go after him," said Walter, running lightly to the other end of the
balcony and down the stone steps.

The lad returned in a few moments, a perplexed frown on his face.

"Find him?" asked Ned.

"No."

"Maybe he's gone back to camp. He's a queer chap."

"I think not. I saw his pony there with the others."

"Oh, well, never mind. He'll get so hungry that he will have to come out,
wherever he is," decided Tad. "I imagine he is hiding somewhere to make us think
he has gone away. Hark! What was that?"

A far away call for help echoed faintly through the church.

They looked at each other with growing uneasiness on their faces.

"It's Chunky," breathed Walter.

"Whwhere is he?" stammered Margaret.

"I don't know. Excuse me; I must go," exclaimed Tad. "The boy is in trouble
again. I knew itI knew he couldn't keep out of it," he added, hurrying away
from them.

Ned sprang down the steps after Tad and together they disappeared through a
rear door in the auditorium.

Those up in the gallery could hear the two boys calling to their companion.
There was no answer to their hails, and one by one the little party left the
gallery.

"I tell you he is playing tricks on us," said Ned, after they had searched
all over the place without finding any trace of Stacy.

"No; I don't agree with you," answered Tad. "Something has happened to
him."

"What shall we do?" asked Walter.

"Keep on looking. That is all we can do just now."

Once more they began their search, but with no better results than
before.

"Have you looked outside?" asked Miss Brayton.

"Yes; we looked out. No use in hunting there, for we can see all around the
place from the side door here," answered Tad. "He has gotten into some place
that we know nothing about. We've got to find it, that's all."

"I would suggest that one of us ride to camp and get some of the men to come
out and help us," advised Walter.

"I'll ride home, and have father send some of his own men," suggested
Margaret.

"Yes; that would be best," agreed Miss Brayton.

"I wish you wouldn't," replied Tad. "It would alarm them, and Professor
Zepplin would be frightened. Ned, suppose you hustle for camp and tell Mr.
Stallings the fix we are in. We shall need some help, that's sure."

"All right. I'm off."

Big-foot Sanders and Curley Adams responded to the call on the run, the
foreman being out with the herd at the time.

"I knew it," was Big-foot's first words as he rode up and threw himself from
his pony where Tad was standing. "Now tell me all about it."

Tad did so, the cowman nodding his head vigorously as Tad told him all he
knew about Chunky's mysterious disappearance.

"Which way did he go?" asked Curley.

"That we do not know," answered Miss Brayton.

"His cry seemed to come from the back of the church somewhere," spoke up
Ned.