CHAPTER VIII.

THE MAN WHO VANISHED.

"There! He's gone again!" exclaimed Adrian, almost immediately afterwards. "He must have seen you pointing at him, Billie."

"My! but he must be a kind of sensitive fellow, if that little thing'd make him sidle out of sight!" observed the stout chum, dejectedly. "One second he was there, all right, and the next he had vamosed the ranch. Now you see him, now you don't. It's mighty queer, I think."

Donald and Adrian exchanged glances.

"What do you make of it, Ad?" queried the former.

"Why, just as Billie here says, it does look queer," replied the other, seriously. "If that had been a cowboy, or an honest miner, or even a prospector in these dangerous mountains, he might have had the decency to wave a hand at us, even if it was too much trouble for him to make his way down here to say how-d'ye."

"Never made a single wave, just backed out of sight," grumbled Billie. "But anyhow, you don't reckon it could have been one of them hostile Indians, do you, boys?"

"Oh! no, not at all," chuckled Adrian. "We'd have seen that fact right away, for they wear feathers in their hair; and besides, you can't mistake an Apache as far as you can see him. It was a white man all right, don't think anything else."

"But you can't guess who, now?" persisted Billie.

"Of course not," declared Donald. "There's always a chance to come across some rascal in this country, a fellow who has been run out of the mining camps, or else is wanted on the ranges for some thieving job, and has to live a hermit life. That may have been just such a man. Fact is, I reckon he was no other."

"And he didn't like our looks one little bit, did he?" pursued Billie. "Seemed to be too honest in our get-up to suit him, mebbe. Well, that's some satisfaction, anyway; though it goes against the grain to have a fellow dodge at sight of you, like you had the epidemic in your clothes."

After waiting some little time to see if the mysterious stranger would show himself again, and meeting with disappointment, the three Broncho Rider Boys determined to resume their journey.

When, however, Billie tried to put the packs on Bray he instantly met with the most strenuous objection. The mule backed away from him, snorting, and with his long ears put forward. In fact he exhibited all the evidences of terror.

"Hey! what's the matter with you, Bray, you silly old thing? Think I'm going to take a bite out of you, mebbe? Well, you've got another guess coming then; because that's the last thing I'd have in my mind. Stand still, can't you, and let me put your pack on. Whether you like it or not, you've just _got_ to carry our things. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, you crazy thing. Hold still, can't you? It's the same pack you had before, only a little fresh venison, and that fine pelt aboard."

The other boys were laughing at the comical exertions of Billie, as he found himself swung around by the prancing mule, with which he was struggling so valiantly.

"That's just what he's objecting to so hard, Billie," remarked Adrian, presently.

"What, that fine venison? Well, if he could only have a taste, perhaps then Bray wouldn't be so mad at being made to carry it," Billie panted, as he still yanked at the stout bridle of the snorting mule.

"It's the panther skin, more than the venison, though I have known horses to object to carrying home meat," Donald told him. "You see, they don't like the smell of the fresh blood; and that skin just gets poor old Bray wild. He knows just by his instinct that it came from a terrible wild beast, that would jump on his back, and claw him, if it ever had the chance. And the mule isn't intelligent enough to understand that it's dead now, and couldn't hurt him."

"But he's just got to carry it, Donald; you wouldn't think of throwing away such an elegant skin that'll make so fine a rug, just because an old mule makes up his mind he wants to kick?" Billie entreated.

"Yes, and we'll lend you a helping hand, old fellow," declared Adrian.

"He may hold out against one, but three will floor him, you mark my words," Donald told the relieved fat boy.

And sure enough, finding that they were all against him; and perhaps realizing, after Donald had made him smell of the panther skin, that it did not bite, old Bray quieted down a little, so that they loaded him without further trouble. But he often gave a sudden lurch, and a snort during the balance of the day, as though catching a scent of the objectionable object, and feeling new alarm.

Donald had mapped out their course as well as he had been able, from the crude descriptions given to him by others. They knew that as the first day's journey had really been wholly among the mountain heights, and this, the second one was for the most part down in the valley, so the third would differ in every respect from those that had gone before, since they must cross the dreary stretch of sand that was known far and wide as a dangerous desert.

But they would be certain to have an abundance of water along, and by keeping their heads about them, surely there could not be any great peril come upon them while making this passage.

So they thought, for youth is ever optimistic; and a merciful Fate takes delight in hiding the future from mortal eyes.

The middle of the afternoon found them making fair progress onward, still in the valley, though Donald warned them that in all probability they would camp that night on the edge of the wide desert strip that lay between them and the region where the village of the cliff dwellers was located.

"I'm getting awful thirsty," remarked Billie, smacking his lips; "and this water we're carrying along in the canteens is hot, and don't seem to go right to the spot. I hope we'll run across a good spring after a little while; because a nice cold drink would please me more'n I can tell you."

"Cheer up then, Billie, for chances are we'll do that very same before a great while," said Adrian; "because I saw where Donald here has got a mark on his map that means water, and we can't be very far away from it right now."

Donald said nothing one way or the other, though Billie did cast an appealing look in his direction; he just kept on pushing ahead, and turning from time to time to take note of the country they were passing through, for his map was not very lucid, and wise Donald wanted to make sure he was right.

Indeed, hardly ten minutes later Billie was heard to give an exclamation of delight and rapture.

"There she is, fellows, and as fine a spring as you'd want to see in a 'coon's age!" he went on to call out, in his explosive way. "And say, if somebody hasn't gone and planted palms around it, too, just for all the world like the oasis you read about in stories of Africa. And just you watch me lower that same basin, when I get started. We've got to keep the ponies back, though, so they won't muddy things up before we get our fill. See, they've scented water; you can tell it by the way they act."

Both Adrian and Donald smiled, for they had noticed this same thing some little time before. The acute sense of smell on the part of the animals had allowed them to know about the presence of water long before their masters were aware of it.

"Hold on, take your time, Billie," warned Donald; and somehow the other thought he said this in the queerest possible way.

"Oh! I see how it is, you just don't feel like making a rush, and think we all ought to be on a level footing," Billie observed, with as near an attempt at irony as he could attain. "H'm makes me think of that story they used to tell about the parson and his little flock on the coast."

"What was that, Billie?" asked Donald.

"Why, you see, he had for his people mostly wreckers; and one day when he was preaching so fine, some one brought word that there was a wreck floated in down the coast. Of course every man in the congregation started to run, leaving the preacher stuck up there in his high pulpit. So he calls out, and tells them how wicked it was to think of such things on a Sunday; and all the while he talks he's a heading toward the door, calming the men, and holding of 'em spellbound like. But when the parson gets right up to the door he alters his tune immediate, for what does he shout out but: 'Now boys, as every one has an even chance, let's hurry down and see if we can save any poor sailorman from that terrible wreck!' And away he goes at the head of the string, lickety-split for the beach. And p'raps that's what our friend Donald here's got in mind."

Both the others laughed at Billie's story; but Donald did not seem inclined to either admit or deny the truth of the other's accusation. Still Adrian could see that strange look on his face, and noted that Donald had taken up his station close alongside Billie, as though bent on restraining the other.

They quickly reached the palms that waved above the spring. Everyone could see that it was a perfectly lovely resting spot. The afternoon sun was quite hot down in the valley there, and the shade under those palms, with their wide crowns of handsome leaves, seemed particularly inviting.

But best of all was the gleam of the water that nestled in a fair sized cup under the trees. Billie had eyes only for this.

"Oh! don't it look great, though?" he was saying enthusiastically, as he hastened his pace, while the others kept alongside persistently. "Plenty for all of us, and the ponies in the bargain. We might fill up the canteens again with fresh stuff because there's no tellin' whether we'll run across another spring as fine as this one seems to be."

"Yes, seems to be," repeated Donald; but Billie was too anxious to get to drinking to pay any heed to the word.

He led the procession, and reached the border of the pool. It certainly did present a most inviting aspect to those hot and tired boys, and small blame to Billie that he should immediately proceed to throw himself down alongside the spring, as though bent on carrying out his threat to lower it more or less.

To his astonishment he felt someone grip him by the shoulder, before he could even wet his lips; and looking up in wonder, he saw it was Donald who held him.

"Didn't I tell you to go slow, Billie?" said the other, seriously; "and here you are, rushing headlong into trouble, without even bothering looking around. Just turn you head, and take a peep at what you see there."

Billie, his eyes as round as saucers with surprise, did so; and in another second he found himself staring at a piece of paper that was stuck in the cleft of a stick close to the water's rim, and which had in large letters the one word "WARNING."