CHAPTER XXXIII.

BROUGHT TO BOOK.

“Good-morning, Colonel,” began Oliver as they went forth to meet their visitor, though with pistol in hand.

The Spaniard nearly fell from his horse.

“What, you!” he shrieked. “You!”

“Yes, Colonel Mendix, I and my friend, as you see. You did not have us quite so much in your power as you thought.”

“How――how did you escape?” faltered the Spaniard.

“That is our business.”

The man’s brow darkened.

“What do you want here, any way?” he demanded. “You have no right to hang around my mine.”

“Your mine? You mean my father’s mine.”

“Bah! Not so. Your father’s mine is abandoned.”

“My father’s mine is here, and in full operation. The Cortez and the Aurora mines are one and the same.”

“Who says so?”

“Felix Cottle for one――”

“His word is worth nothing. He is――”

“He tells the truth.”

“Right you are,” said a voice from behind; and turning, the two beheld the guide, who had just ridden up.

“Back already?” exclaimed Oliver.

“Yes; and all O. K.,” replied Cottle with a knowing wink. “Collared my man on the fly.”

“Cottle!” cried Colonel Mendix, changing color.

“Yes; just in time to see you get your deserts,” with a short, dry laugh. “Reckon we are square now, Colonel.”

“What do you mean?”

“That there young man will tell you, him and Mr. Whyland.”

“Whyland!” The colonel was deadly pale now. “Is he――”

“Yes, he is here,” said a calm voice; and the gentleman stepped forward. “Colonel Mendix, when we parted in the East years ago, I guess you did not expect that we would meet some day out here.”

The Spaniard bit his lips. He was trembling with fear.

“I――I――what do you want?” he faltered.

“We want our rights,” replied Oliver.

“There is nothing here for you.”

“I think there is,” returned Mr. Whyland. “Mr. Shattock!” he called out, and a tall, sharp-eyed stranger rode from under cover.

“The sheriff of the county!” muttered Colonel Mendix, and on the instant his backbone seemed to desert him.

It was an exciting moment for all. To Oliver Bright it was a time of triumph. The termination of his quest was at hand, full of the promise of success.

As for Colonel Mendix, it took the Spaniard several seconds to recover from the shock he experienced when the sheriff appeared upon the scene. He saw at once that matters had taken a most serious turn.

“Well, Colonel Guerotaz, this appears to be a grave business you have been engaged in,” said the sheriff, as he dismounted from his horse and strode over to where the Spaniard sat.

“I do not know what you are talking about,” replied Colonel Mendix as stiffly as he could.

“You don’t?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, it is simply this: That you have done everything in your power to defraud Mr. Whyland here and one Arthur Bright out of their lawful share in a certain mining scheme connected with the Aurora mine――”

“Not so,” cried the colonel. “The Aurora mine is one of no value, just as represented to them.”

“They are willing to swear otherwise, at least Mr. Whyland is, and Felix Cottle is willing to testify――”

“I don’t care. I have my rights. My word is as good as――”

“And there is other proof,” put in Oliver. “James Barr――”

Colonel Mendix jumped up as if shot.

“James Barr! James Barr is dead.”

“We know that. And we also know how he came to his death.”

The Spaniard started.

“But his dying statement remains――”

“His dying statement? Why, he was drowned in the mine――”

“No, not drowned, but made a prisoner while suffering from fever,” replied Oliver. “And when you shut us up in the pit in the mine we came across his skeleton, and near it found a statement in a match-box for safe-keeping.”

“It is false.”

“It is the truth. That statement is now in Mr. Whyland’s possession. Perhaps he will read it to you.”

“That is not necessary,” said that gentleman. “I will put the statement in Sheriff Shattock’s hands. It is enough to say that it proves our claim to what is known as the Cortez mine, as well as the Aurora, and also that Colonel Guerotaz, _alias_ Mendix, is in reality a noted counterfeiter named Guito.”

At the last words a shrill cry burst from the Spaniard’s lips. The revelation had been so unexpected that it completely unnerved him.

“You――you――” he began.

“You had better not say much,” suggested the sheriff. “It may all count against you at the trial.” He walked over and put his hand upon Colonel Mendix’s knee. “You are my prisoner.”

“Your prisoner!”

“Exactly. You will please dismount at once.”

“This is an outrage――”

“Come, say no more. There are others who suspect you, and I have heard before that you were supposed to be an escaped criminal.”

“I will not submit. I will――”

“You will submit,” replied the sheriff firmly. “Here, hold out your hands―― Hello! Stop him!” For Colonel Mendix had on the instant wheeled around his horse, and was galloping off at the top of the animal’s speed.

“Catch me, if you can!” he cried mockingly. “Catch Cirilo Guito if you are able!”

And away went horse and rider like a whirlwind.

“Well, by thunder!” ejaculated Felix Cottle; “he’s going to try to sneak!”

“After him!” shouted the sheriff. “Come on, all of you!”

“We’re with you!” responded Cottle. “He must not be allowed to reach those hills yonder. If he does, it will be like looking for that pin in the haystack, and worse.”

Off went the sheriff and the guide, with Mr. Whyland not far behind them.

Oliver and Gus stared at each other. What should they do?

“Come, Gus,” cried the former. “The more the better in a case of this kind.”

And he started for his animal, tethered but a short distance away.

“But the camp”――began the stout youth.

“Must take care of itself. There is no one about to rob us, anyway. Come.”

Gus needed no second urging. Indeed, he would not have remained behind alone under any consideration.

It took some time to put their animals in proper condition for use. By the time they had mounted, the crowd ahead were just disappearing over the brow of a low hill.

Side by side, the two boys urged their animals along at top speed. Oliver had his weapons ready for use, but trusted he would not be called upon to use them.

Crack! The sharp sound of a rifle broke the stillness. They rightfully guessed that the sheriff had fired on the fugitive, but whether he had reached his mark or not they could not tell. They continued to move forward with eyes and ears painfully on the alert.

The top of the hill gained, they could see Mr. Whyland and the others climbing a rocky slope over to the westward. Near the top of the slope, among some scanty brush, the boys could see Colonel Mendix, astride of his horse, urging the animal along with hand and spur.

Oliver could have fired at the man with ease, but the thought of bloodshed held him back. He wished to capture the Spaniard as much as did any of the others, but he would not run the risk of having the rascal’s blood on his conscience.

As Oliver and Gus began the ascent of the rocky slope Colonel Mendix appeared at the extreme top. For a single instant he looked back and shook his fist at his pursuers.

Again the sheriff fired, and so did Felix Cottle; and this time the fleeing criminal was wounded in the leg. He gave a shrill cry of pain, sent back two shots in return, both of which flew wide of their mark and disappeared.

“He is gone!” gasped Oliver.

“Don’t you think they will get him?” queried Gus.

“I don’t see how they can; the woods over yonder are so thick. But come, we may as well follow the others;” this as the stout youth began to lag behind.

“I’m so stiff, from yesterday,” groaned Gus. But, nevertheless, he urged his horse on, and they steadily decreased the distance between themselves and Mr. Whyland and the others.

From the way the sheriff headed, it was evident he thought Colonel Mendix was trying to ride in a circle. Sheriff Shattock’s words soon proved this.

“This Mendix, as you call him,” he said, “is trying to get back to the mine. No doubt he wishes to clean out the office-safe before leaving this section of the country.”

“Then would it not be better if one of us went back toward the mine?” suggested Mr. Whyland.

“I reckon it would be.”

“I’ll go to the mine if you say so,” put in Felix Cottle. “I’m better acquainted around the place than any of you.”

“All right; go,” said the sheriff; and at once the guide turned back on the trail.

He soon came upon the boys, to whom he explained the situation. Gus wanted to return with him, but Oliver was for following Mr. Whyland; and so they went on, leaving Felix Cottle to ride on to the Aurora mine alone.

“If we hurry we can catch up with Mr. Whyland,” said Oliver. “Come, Gus; remember the chase is not likely to last long.”

“I’ll do my best!” cried the stout youth. “Look-out, Oliver!” he went on suddenly.

He dropped down on his horse’s back, and instinctively Oliver did the same. There were two reports, and a clipping through the leaves of the trees followed.

“My gracious, he’s firing on us!” gasped Gus. “We must try to keep out of sight.” And he shuddered so greatly that he almost fell from his saddle.

“To the left――where the bushes are thicker!” exclaimed Oliver.

He led the way; and hanging low behind his horse’s neck, Gus followed. Soon they were once again well screened.

In the meanwhile the shots fired by Colonel Mendix had served one good purpose. The sheriff had lost sight of the rascal; but now the reports helped the officer of the law to locate him, and he struck off on a side trail, with Mr. Whyland close at his heels.

The ground was rocky and uneven and full of loose stones, and the horses made but poor headway. But in this matter they were no worse off than was Colonel Mendix, and both were satisfied that they were making just as good progress as the man they were pursuing.

Five minutes later Oliver and Gus joined Mr. Whyland and the sheriff. They came through a belt of timber and found the two men on the defensive.

“Hullo, it’s the boys!” cried Mr. Whyland. “Have you seen anything of Mendix?” he went on anxiously.

“He is over to the left, in the clump of pines,” responded Oliver. “But be careful. Did you not hear him fire on us? The bullets whistled right over our heads!”

“We heard the shots,” said the sheriff. “The pines, eh? Then he is making for the mine without a doubt.”

“Is there no way of heading him off?” asked Mr. Whyland.

“I believe there is――down at the mountain torrent some distance below here. But no time is to be wasted.”

Without further words they rode on through some low brush and over a rocky plain. While on the latter spot, all hands kept a sharp lookout for stray shots; but none came. Clearly Colonel Mendix had passed down along the watercourse, just as the sheriff had surmised.

“Wait!”

The sheriff uttered the word in a low tone, as he halted on the very edge of a large, overhanging rock.

The others drew up behind him.

Leaping to the ground, Sheriff Shattock moved cautiously to the front, and peered over.

“What do you see?” whispered Oliver.

“Nothing, as yet; but wait. If I am right, he will come along the road, just below here.”

“And if he does?” put in Mr. Whyland.

“I reckon I’ll make him come to terms,” was the slow but determined response.

A minute――and another――passed. To the boys they seemed hours.

Suddenly the sheriff leaped up.

“Halt!” he shouted, and aimed his pistol downward. “Halt!”

Looking over the edge of the rock, the others saw Colonel Mendix riding along a narrow path beside the watercourse.

At the sound of the sheriff’s voice the Spaniard looked quickly around, but he did not slacken his animal’s speed.

“Did you hear?” demanded Sheriff Shattock. “Halt! I have a dead aim on you.”

At this Colonel Mendix uttered a loud cry to his horse, and away bound the animal on a swift gallop.

The sheriff fired, and the sound of the shot, echoing and re-echoing through the cañon, frightened the animal below. He leaped to one side; and in a trice horse and rider were in the mountain stream, and being borne along by the swift current.

“Just my miserable luck!” muttered the sheriff. “See, he knows enough to duck under, and thus avoid another shot!”

“What is best to do now?” asked Oliver anxiously.

“We must go down to the slope below here and try to head him off. Quick! there is not a moment to lose!”

Again the sheriff went on, with the three others stringing after him in single file. The flat rock was passed, and once more they found themselves among the loose stones and short, thorny bushes. The sheriff was the best rider of the party, and he soon drew ahead. Gus was the worst laggard, and he begged Oliver not to leave him alone.

“This bit of the country may be full of snakes and wild beasts,” said the stout youth. “And I don’t want to face anything like that all alone.”

“I don’t doubt but what there are both snakes and wild beasts here,” returned Oliver. “But I doubt if they molest us if we leave them alone.”

“But suppose a big mountain lion should leap out after us”――

“Oh, pshaw! Even that wouldn’t be any worse than having Colonel Mendix use us for targets.”

“That’s true too!” Gus gave a groan. “It’s a pity he can’t drown himself in that river! It would be a good job done.”

“Such rascals don’t pass out of existence so easily, Gus. But come, we really must hurry along. If we don’t, we’ll miss Mr. Whyland and the sheriff altogether. And I must confess I haven’t the least idea where we are or in what direction our camp lies.”

“Nor I. Well, I’ll do my best.”

The thought that they would be left behind and become lost did more to urge Gus ahead than anything else. They proceeded over the rocks on a fairly brisk trot; and when the slope leading down to the mountain stream was reached Mr. Whyland and the sheriff were but a hundred yards in advance.

The edge of the stream was hidden by an irregular growth of bushes, so it was impossible to see what was beyond until these were parted. The sheriff, finding a shallow spot, made his horse wade out into the open.

“There he is!”

“Where?”

“Over on the opposite side! He is just crawling up the bank behind a clump of overhanging trees!”

The sheriff pointed with his finger, and Mr. Whyland and the boys, who were just coming up, saw that he was right.

“Where is his horse?”

“Already on shore. Come; there is but one thing to do now,” went on Sheriff Shattock.

“What is that?” asked the three others simultaneously.

“We must ford the stream.”

“Can we do that?” asked Oliver.

“Yes. Just below here it widens out and is not over a foot and a half deep. I will show you the spot. And we will be certain to head off our quarry, for he cannot turn back on that side.”

Without giving Colonel Mendix time to discover them they drew back behind the bushes and followed the sheriff’s lead along the watercourse. In less than five minutes they came to the spot he had mentioned. Here the stream was three times its natural width and one could have almost leaped from rock to rock without wetting a foot.

The horses went over readily enough, although they were dry, and longed to drink. But they could not stop to humor the beasts. They reached the opposite shore and drew up behind a convenient bowlder.

A clatter of hoofs was heard, and an instant later Colonel Mendix dashed past on his horse, rider and animal leaving a stream of wet behind them.

“Stop!” commanded the sheriff again. “You can’t escape us now!”

The Spaniard muttered something in his native tongue, and went on faster than ever, with the others in hot pursuit.

“He intends to escape if he can,” said Gus. He was completely fagged out and ready to drop from his saddle.

“Come on!”

It was the cry of the sheriff as he made after Colonel Mendix, riding as he had never ridden before. He was warmed up to the chase, and meant to end it in a very few minutes.

The way was a treacherous one, and the rascal ahead was compelled shortly to slow up. Soon the sheriff was again within hailing distance.

“Stop, or I’ll fire!” he commanded.

The Spaniard turned. He held a pistol in his hand and pointed it at Sheriff Shattock’s head.

Before he could pull the trigger, the officer fired his own weapon. The shot struck Colonel Mendix’s horse, and the animal leaped into the air and fell down, throwing the Spaniard over his head.

When they drew near, they saw that in falling the Spaniard had struck his head upon a sharp rock, and that the blood was flowing profusely from a wound in his temple. He was unconscious, and it took fully ten minutes to bring him to his senses.

“I give up,” he said in a faint voice. “The fates are against me, and I am in the hands of the law at last.”

Shortly after, the whole party rode to the office of the Cortez mine. Here the safe was opened, and an examination of its contents proved all the statements made against Colonel Mendix to be true.

Sheriff Shattock at once took charge of the criminal. By the suggestion of Mr. Whyland he appointed Cottle as temporary superintendent of the mine until the law should have taken its course.

The situation of affairs was fully explained to all the men at work,――some thirty in number. They were surprised; but as none of them had ever liked Mendix, they took the change in good part, especially after Mr. Whyland told them that they should every one be well rewarded if they remained true to their duty.

Then Oliver and Mr. Whyland sat down to figure out the probable value of the mine. It was a tedious, but highly gratifying task.

“One hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars!” gasped Oliver, as he surveyed the figures. “Can it be possible?”

“It is,” laughed the gentleman. “Your father will be a rich man.”

“What welcome news it will be to him! This mine was our last hope. Had it failed us we would have been thrown upon the world without a dollar. But I am glad for your sake also, for you did so much towards getting our rights.”

“Not half as much as you, my boy. The real credit is wholly yours.”

On the following day, after all necessary preparations were made, Oliver and Gus departed with the sheriff and the prisoner on the return. At Ford’s store the sheriff left them, but the two boys had no difficulty in following the trail back to Sacramento.

“Now for the first train home!” said Oliver. “Father must hear the good news without delay.”