CHAPTER XX

BROUGHT TO BOOK

"Hallo! Hallo! Stop there! Dudley! Harold!"

It was no ordinary man who sent those words rolling over the moonlit pampas, but a giant, possessed of lungs as powerful as a blacksmith's bellows. There could be no mistaking the voice, and in a second Dudley was pulling frantically at his reins, shouting back with his head turned as much as possible, while hope, the certainty of succor and of safety, sent the blood rushing through his veins. His spirits went up with a jump. In an instant what had seemed a desperate position was entirely changed. Mr. Blunt was there, riding swiftly after him, for no one else on the pampas possessed such a voice.

"Halt! If you are a friend, halt at once; if an enemy, halt all the sooner."

As if to impress the fugitive, a sharp crack resounded some way behind, and a pistol bullet whizzed high overhead.

"Whoa! Pull up, boys! Steady! There, stand like that, or you will shake the life out of our friend here. Ahoy! Mr. Blunt! It's Dudley!"

Sitting as high as was possible in the absence of a saddle and stirrups, Dudley waved one free hand deliriously in the air and shouted at the pitch of his voice. He was frantic with excitement. A huge weight of trouble seemed to have fallen from his young shoulders in the space of a few seconds, for he knew that he himself was secure now, and, more than that, that his comrades lying in their trenches in the forest were also secure. But how was it that these horsemen had so suddenly appeared, for Mr. Blunt's estancia was many miles away? What had brought them out across the pampas, and in the dead of night? Dudley shouted again, and then, turning his horses, rode back towards the newcomers, his free hand now gripping his prisoner's shoulder. For Antonio had collapsed. His brain, still somewhat muddled by the crushing blow which Dudley's pistol had given him, had nevertheless rapidly discovered the real condition of affairs. Hardly a minute before, a sardonic grin, the grin of a man who has triumphed, had made a naturally repulsive face perfectly hideous. He had even gone to the length of taunting his captor. But now, when he realized that his hopes were gone, that he was more than ever a prisoner, and that there could be but one end, this cold-blooded rascal, who had infested the pampas, who had caused ruin to many estancia owners, and who had never forgotten some stupid grudge which he owed Mr. Blunt, collapsed and became unconscious again. He fell forward on to the horse's neck and lay there, with his head dangling towards the ground. However, before Mr. Blunt and the gauchos had ridden up, the prisoner was conscious again and sitting up. But his was not the pose of a man in the best of spirits. The rascal's courage was gone at last. He sat his mount as if some huge weight were crushing his shoulders, and his cruel and twinkling eyes looked furtively at his captor and then at the figure of the foremost of the newcomers.

"Thank God, it's Dudley! What has happened, lad? Who is this fellow?"

In his own impulsive manner the owner of the neighboring estancia galloped up to our hero, reined in his horse with iron fingers, and then stretched out a big hand to grip that of his young manager. And there the two sat, unable to speak for a few seconds, while the gauchos, with Pietro at their head, surrounded the little party, uttering cries of astonishment, and looking wonderingly at the Englishman who was in their midst and at the bearded repulsive stranger lashed to the horse beside him.

"Who is this fellow?" demanded Mr. Blunt sternly, releasing Dudley's hand and riding closer so as to inspect the prisoner. "We heard shots. The men at our outpost corral reported that firing was to be heard somewhere in this direction, and, happening to be spending the night with them, I brought a strong party out on to the pampas. The firing got louder as we rode, and we were sure it came from the forest, from the direction of the estancia which you and your men were to visit. We were suspicious, and were wondering whether we should advance at once or send back for more men, when we heard a shout. Then--why, great powers, I know this fellow!"

Antonio had kept his head averted all this while, but a sudden movement, a half-turn of the horse to which he was lashed, had swung him round, and in a moment Mr. Blunt was staring into a dark, forbidding face, clothed with a matted beard, and displaying at that second a variety of expressions, fear and hate mingled strangely together. Antonio Sarvisti had known from the very first who the newcomer was. The voice was sufficient, and how he hated that! Then there was the huge figure, the commanding presence of the burly Englishman, with his direct way of speaking, his open-hearted manner, all of which reminded this rascal of past days, of a man whom he had disliked from the first, and against whom, for some foolish, fancied cause, he had sworn to be revenged. Men of his stamp and country were not the ones to reason such matters out. Blind unreasoning hate had kept him to his purpose, and he had persevered, always to be met by failure.

"So this ruffian is your prisoner?" said Mr. Blunt, recovering from his astonishment. "Tell me all about his capture. What has happened?"

He sat stockstill on his horse while Dudley recounted how he and his party had visited the estancia of Antonio last of all, how their suspicions had been aroused, and how, while returning to look further into the matter, they had been caught in an ambush. Then he related his own escape, his meeting with the leader of the band of robbers, and his final ride for freedom.

"Then I understand that at the present moment there are some fifty-five brigands lying in the forest ready to attack our men," said Mr. Blunt quietly, as if he were reviewing the whole position. "They probably know nothing of the capture you have made, and are simply waiting for the dawn. It will be here in an hour, perhaps, though it will still be dark in the forest. I have thirty men here."

"Thirty-four, señor," corrected Pietro.

"Thirty-four, then, of whom two will be required to take charge of this rascal. The others are at your service, Dudley. How do you propose to make use of them?"

He was going to place the whole affair in his manager's hands. Mr. Blunt was not the man to interfere where interference was unnecessary, and now he determined that Dudley should see the matter through, and, having done so much, should extricate the little party which he had commanded.

"Time is short," he said curtly. "We had better be moving. What plan do you suggest?"

"There is one, and one only," was the answer. "Divide the men. Send twenty along the face of the forest till opposite our party, with instructions to move the flanks forward and so enclose the robbers. I will lead the others by the path I followed, and we will seize the horses. Then we shall have them completely, for with men outside them, and our fellows in the middle of their circle, they will be unable to move. They will be between two fires. Warn the men here to be careful when they shoot, for they might hit their comrades. Will that do?"

"Take charge of this ruffian," commanded Mr. Blunt, swinging round to the men. "You all wish to come with us, I know, but this duty must be seen to. Select two of your number, and let us be going. Now, my friends, I want ten men who will follow our young manager."

Like lightning the tale which Dudley had narrated had flown round the circle of gauchos, and had been interpreted to those who could not understand English. Their grinning faces showed their pleasure, and now, at Mr. Blunt's words, they hung back sheepishly at first, fearful in the case of every man that he would be selected to guard the prisoner; while, as the call came for ten to follow Dudley, some thirty-four pair of heels drove as many spurs into the horses, causing them to bound forward in a mass.

Mr. Blunt laughed. "That is the result of popularity," he said, smiling at Dudley. "Some obtain fame in one way, some in another. It would appear that my manager has a reputation as a leader and a fighter. Come, lads? ten only are required. I did not ask for thirty-four."

He took Dudley by the sleeve, and together they rode away from the men, who quickly settled the question. Five minutes later the two parties were crossing the pampas at a gallop, while in rear of them stood three solitary horsemen, one bound to his mount, crest-fallen and desperate, while the other two, tall, well-set-up gauchos, gazed after their comrades with envious eyes, and then turned to scowl at their prisoner.

"To think," growled one of them, "that you and I are left behind because of this hound. Tales have been spreading, and, if they are true, it is this fellow who has sent the Indians to us so often, and who has had our master attacked down in the settlements. And now he keeps us here, swinging our heels, when we should have been with our comrades paying off the scores we owe to these robbers."

His comrade nodded with energy. He quite agreed that this last offence was an enormity, and scowled at Antonio in no very friendly manner.

"Pampas law for him," he said, rolling a cigarette. "There's a tree down by the corral which will bear his weight. To-morrow, perhaps, he will be dangling."

The sky was getting brighter away to the east as Dudley led his little following into the forest. They had ridden with their comrades till the dark line of the trees came into sight, and then, having halted to point out to his employer the precise position of the robbers and the gallant band they surrounded, a position which he remembered because of a patch of trees higher than the others, they had galloped on rapidly so as to reach the horses before the others were discovered. They threaded the narrow track which Dudley had followed, found the clearing into which three of these paths opened, and finally rode slowly along that which led to the clearing in which the fire burned, and where doubtless some of the robbers were even then having a meal.

"Halt!" A whispered word from Dudley brought his small force to a standstill, for the flickering rays of a fire had penetrated to the path along which they were riding. "Wait," said the young leader. "I will go forward and reconnoitre."

Slipping from his mount he ran along, bent almost double, and very soon was on the very edge of the clearing. The fire still burned there as brightly as ever, and seated near it, on upturned saddles or on the ground, were four of the enemy, while the jovial features of the Indian cook were clearly seen, for he stood over the fire stirring his kettle, from which he had just filled the pannikins of the men. Evidently the loss of two horses and of their leader had not been discovered, and everything promised well for Dudley and his party. He slipped back to them, and in a twinkling they were moving forward.

"Four take charge of the horse lines, while the rest cover the enemy with their rifles," he said. "Trot! We must get along."

Following one another in Indian file, for the path was too narrow for two to ride abreast, the little cavalcade were not long in reaching the clearing. They burst into the open space, spread out so as to surround the enemy there, and before the latter had recovered from their astonishment had them covered with their rifles. It was comical to see the look of dismay which overspread the once jovial face of the Indian cook. He seemed paralyzed with terror, and stood precisely in the same spot where Dudley had seen him, his mouth agape, his eyes bulging from their sockets, while he mechanically continued to stir the contents of his steaming kettle.

"Hands up!" cried Dudley. "You are surrounded, and if one of you attempts to lift his rifle, that man will be shot."

Whether or not the men understood what he said, they at least gathered his meaning from his gestures, and more even from the sight of the rifles which covered them. They had already dropped their pannikins, and now they huddled themselves together near the cook, their hands held up above their heads.

"Let two men dismount and take their pistols and knives from them," commanded Dudley. Then, when that task had been accomplished, he placed a couple of his men on guard over the prisoners, all of whom were secured with the long leather thong of a bolas.

"Now for the others," he said. "We will spread out here on the edge of the clearing facing their comrades, and will wait for the dawn. If any come our way, let them pass in and then cover them with your weapons. If possible let us take them without a shot, and without so much as a sound."

Fortune was favoring Mr. Blunt and his honest gauchos on this occasion, for it happened that during Dudley's absence all the men of Antonio's following had had a meal, save those who now lay captives, and who had been taken in the midst of their repast. None came from the forest to the clearing. In addition, beyond a loud call every now and again, not a sound was heard from the depths of the forest, even Harold and his men were husbanding their ammunition till the dawn came, for the brave lad had no idea that Dudley had returned already. At the earliest he could not expect help before the following night, and for that reason he saved every cartridge, while, on the advice of Pepito, he allowed one-half of his force to sleep, waking them when an hour had gone so as to rest the remainder. But the dawn was coming. Even to the men hidden in the forest an occasional glimpse was possible of the reddening sky, while the light, growing imperceptibly greater, seemed to steal down past the leaves and along the tree trunks till it reached the roots. It was dawn. Men could see the faces of their comrades, and Harold was able to tell the exact position of each one of his following, and for the first time could distinguish the outline of the quaint fort which Dudley had suggested before his departure. A little extra banking here and there at the edges, a little more taken out of portions of the trenches, and the place would be perfect. The men were all awake now, lying with their weapons ready and cartridges at hand. He was about to give an order to improve the fort when a single rifle shot rang out far back in the forest, to be answered within a minute by a report from the pampas. Then came a loud hail from the latter position.

"Harold! Harold!" came in Mr. Blunt's stentorian tones. "Harold, ahoy!"

"Friends, señor," exclaimed Pepito, dragging himself slowly to his leader's side, for the poor fellow's wound was painful. "There is help close at hand. Warn the men to be careful of their shooting. But listen!"

Once more the strong voice was heard.

"Harold, ahoy! We have a strong force of gauchos with us, and have surrounded the ruffians lying in the forest. Shoot any who happen to pass your way. We are closing up all round them."

From the depths of the forest there came now a commotion. Men called to one another, for as yet the position was not understood. But many of the ruffians understood English, and some had overheard Mr. Blunt's hail. They were surrounded. While they had no notion of such a thing, and indeed thought it impossible, the enemy had ridden all round them. Each must fight for himself.

They gave up all attempt to capture the small party who had withstood them so long, gave up all thought of combination, and promptly bolted like hares in all directions, the majority, however, rushing for the clearing where their horses were picketed.

"Wait till you see them clearly, and then bring them down," said Dudley sternly. "Mind, not a shot till they are close. We must take them by surprise."

The ambush into which the rascally gauchos fell was in fact such a surprise that many of them promptly threw up their hands and were secured. Half a dozen were killed at the first volley, and three others, who attempted to run, shared the same fate. For the honest fellows who were in Mr. Blunt's employ had no sympathy for such ruffians. On the pampas, where there was an entire absence of police or of any protective force, men had to fend for themselves, and robbers had to be dealt with severely.

"Place the prisoners all together, and set a guard over them," commanded Dudley, when it was seen that no more were coming their way. "Pietro, just count them, and let me know how many we have taken."

"Thirty-two, señor," came the answer, as the gaucho rapidly totalled the robbers who had been captured, and returned to the young manager's side. "A good haul, señor, and one which will put a stop to other bands attempting the same robberies. Thirty-two, and seventy-three horses."

"Amongst which will be the mounts they captured from my little escort. Now, we'll give our friends a hail."

Sharp reports had meanwhile been heard from different parts of the forest, sometimes three or four coming close together, while the majority were solitary shots, fired at some fleeing figure. There were shouts, too, and an occasional cry of pain.

"Ahoy there! Harold! Mr. Blunt!"

Dudley shouted at the pitch of his lungs, and very soon his employer and Harold appeared on the scene, their men straggling in behind them, two of the fine fellows carrying Pepito in their arms.

"Thirty-two prisoners, you say?" cried Mr. Blunt, casting a withering glance at the robbers, and then one of pride at his men. "Now, let us count them, for we want to be sure that none have escaped. Harold reports that five were killed in the neighborhood of the fort, so that thirty-seven are accounted for. How many were shot here?"

"Nine in all," came the answer.

"Then we have dealt with forty-six, and with the ruffian you so gallantly brought us, Dudley, we have accounted for forty-seven. Thirteen have escaped, and I have no doubt are now running for their lives through this forest. Well, let them go. Their tale will help to frighten others bent on a lawless life. And now to return to the estancia. Dudley, you will take Pietro and ten men, and will make for the house occupied by that rascally Antonio. Take possession of it, seize all people there, and keep a guard over any papers you may come upon. The remainder will escort the prisoners back to the estancia, where they will be kept till I can obtain a judge from the settlements. One of the rascals I could have dealt with, but I cannot hang so many on my own authority."

Resting in the clearing till the men had had a meal, the party divided again, Dudley and his escort riding to Antonio's house, which they seized without opposition. The prisoners taken in the action were mounted on the captured horses, their legs secured beneath the bodies of the animals, and their hands lashed firmly. Then the horses were roped in a long line, and once more took the track leading into the forest. A pile of arms and saddlery was left behind, to be fetched on a future occasion.

Two weeks later the robbers who had been captured were placed on trial at Mr. Blunt's estancia, and some ten of their number, against whom previous acts of violence could be proved, were hanged by order of the authorities. The remainder were sent down to Buenos Ayres, there to work in the prisons. As for Antonio, he was hanged before all his following, as a warning to those who were to be retained as prisoners.

"And now we shall be able to live peacefully," said Mr. Blunt a week later, when all the prisoners had been removed, and matters had settled down at the estancia. "There will be no more raids from the direction of the forest, for, thanks to Dudley, and to you too, Harold, both Indians and robbers have had a severe lesson. I have news for you both. Guess what it is.

"Then I will tell you," he went on, seeing that they only shook their heads. "I have need of a second manager, for I have purchased the whole of the estancia owned by Antonio Sarvisti. It is as large as this ranch, and needs an experienced man. Dudley Compton is the man I have selected."

The news was almost too good to be believed. Dudley had had visions of managing a ranch some day far in the future, and perhaps even of possessing one when he had accumulated sufficient money. And now----

"It is as large as this," said Mr. Blunt, "and you will start with an ample stock of cattle. You will be in complete control of the place, and will merely report to me on occasion. So that you may not be too much alone, I will build a house close to the borders of the forest, through which paths shall be cut. There Harold and I will take up our residence. That is, if our young friend cares to remain and accept the post of manager on this estancia."

"Would he accept it?" Harold's eyes were shining brightly. There was a suspicious twitch about the corners of his mouth as he blurted out an acceptance.

"Rather!" he said. "That would be jolly! We shall still continue the same happy family."

Little remains to be told of the doings of Dudley Compton and his friends. In three years the estancia which he managed had become a model establishment, which commanded the admiration of the neighboring owners. But there was one great defect. Dudley was lonely. He was a long ride from Mr. Blunt and Harold, and at nights the hours hung heavy on his hands. Need the reader be surprised to hear that our hero was more than interested in the arrival of Mr. Blunt's daughter, that his visits to his old employer became noticeably frequent, and that when some months had gone by he was able to persuade the young lady who had arrived that his own little house on the neighboring ranch was comfortable? The two young people were married within a year, the gauchos from far and near collecting together to cheer them and drink their health. And in due time, as the years rolled by, and age began to tell on Mr. Blunt, his two young managers became partners on the ranches. To this day they are there, white-haired and somewhat stiff and aged. But that firm friendship, commenced when at school and renewed after a painful break, still exists between them. The wide, rolling plains have been their home ever since those early days when first they made the acquaintance of the Roughriders of the Pampas.