Chapter 17

A SOUND IN THE SKY

"Good-bye, Tom."

"S'long, Jack."

"Keep a watch for our signal. We'll call you."

"I will that. An' if it's in trouble you are, Dave an' me'll be ridin' just as fast as we can to help you. Wish you'd let me go 'long. I'm half minded to follow you."

"No, no. We'll stand our best chance alone. They won't suspect we're other than a bunch of wild young fellows out for adventure."

Tom grumbled, but the force of the reasoning was apparent to him. They leaned from their horses for a last firm handclasp, then Jack rode on to join Bob and Frank who sat on their horses some distance ahead.

"You're the boy to give it to 'em, Jack," called the big ex-cowboy in a last farewell. "Give 'em thunder."

Jack waved a parting salute as he joined his comrades. Frank and Bob did likewise. Then with night settling down over the vast desert waste they rode on into old Mexico.

Beside the white stone marking the international boundary, Tom Bodine sat his horse like a statue. Moodily he watched until they were out of sight. It was a hard life Tom had led in his day and when he took the job at the radio plant it was with a sigh of relief at the ease ahead of him. But now despite his fifty years, the last thirty of which had been filled with hard knocks, he felt the old call to adventure urging him on.

With drooping head, he turned his horse toward home. But hardly had the animal started forward, than he dragged it about again.

"Let's go," he shouted to the empty silence, and whirling his sombrero aloft, brought it down on his horse's flank. Then he rode on after the three figures that had been swallowed up in the darkness.

Far ahead of him, for Tom had taken considerable time to reach his decision, rode the three companions. The young moon shed only a wan and wraithlike radiance over the plain. They were alone, and the parting with their last friend, combined with the solitude of the open spaces, had its effect upon them. They rode awhile in subdued silence. But not for long. Frank's lively spirits were the first to rebound.

"Race you to that rock," he cried, pointing to a solitary outcropping of rock, about twice a man's height, about a quarter of a mile ahead.

"You're on," cried Jack, spurring his horse.

"Attaboy," yelled Bob, doing likewise.

With a shout that shattered the silence as if a band of wild Indians were hitting the trail, the three boys dashed away.

Presently they pulled up by the rock, practically neck and neck. Their eyes were alight now with the zest of adventure.

"Gee, it's great to be alive," cried Frank.

"You said it," declared Bob.

Jack nodded laughingly, but the next moment his face became grave.

"Just the same," he said, "we mustn't do that again."

"Why not?" demanded Bob.

"Well, for one thing, we must save our horses as much as possible. We already have come twenty miles, and we have thirty miles more to go before reaching Tom's cave."

"For one thing?" questioned Bob. "What's your other reason?"

"Just that we don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

"You're right, Jack," said Frank. "I'll not start anything again."

They jogged on.

A martial trio they made. Jack was clothed in the khaki shirt, riding breeches, high laced leather boots and sombrero in which he had met the boys on their arrival at Ransome. Bob and Frank were similarly outfitted. Tom Bodine was about of Bob's proportions, and his partner Dave Morningstar had the build of the slighter Frank. These two old cow punchers had given the boys the run of their wardrobes. Each lad carried an automatic at his hip swinging from a well-filled cartridge belt. In addition, Jack bore his repeating rifle in a leather scabbard on his saddle.

Frank cast an appraising eye over himself and his comrades, and grinned with approval. Despite Jack's rebuke, he could not long keep silence.

"Well, here we go, fellows," he said cheerfully, "just like the Three Musketeers. Jack with your air of melancholy you can be Athos. Bob is big enough to be Porthos, although I have got his appetite. I'm Aramis."

"Aramis was always dreaming about the ladies," said Bob slily. "Heard from Della lately?"

Frank was silent a moment under the sly dig, his thoughts flying back to the faraway Long Island home. But his irrepressible spirits would not permit him to remain silent for long, and soon he burst forth again.

"All we need to make it complete," he said, "is D'Artagnan. I wonder if we'll find him."

Jack made no answer. His thoughts were busy turning over plans for the rescue of his father. Bob, too, was unusually silent, thinking of the parting from his own father and the latter's anxiety which almost had prevented his making this venture. Frank pursed his lips to whistle, thought better of it, and jogged along as silent as his companions.

So they rode hour after hour, only the creak of leather, the occasional stumble of a horse or the distant call of a coyote breaking the stillness. At length a low range of foothills, upflung before them, began to take shape out of the darkness with their near approach. Presently Jack called a halt.

"Somewhere in there," said he, "lies Tom's cave."

It was in the early hours before dawn, when the darkness if anything becomes more intense. A chill nipping wind long since had caused the boys to unroll the rubber ponchos strapped to the back of their saddles, and drape them over their shoulders. As they stood now in the eerie darkness, striving vainly to locate the landmarks of tree and rock which Tom had given them, the howl of a hunting coyote floated down the wind. The sensitive Frank shivered.

"That sends the gooseflesh up my spine," he said.

"Are you scared?" asked Bob.

"I'm scared stiff," averred Frank. "My hair is standing up so straight I wonder how my sombrero stays on."

"Me, too," said Bob.

"Liar," said Frank.

"You're another," said Bob. "You're not scared. I know you too well."

They grinned affectionately at each other. Jack who meantime had been investigating, turned with a worried expression.

"I've followed Tom's directions faithfully," he said. "He said to lay our course south by south-west and showed me what he meant on my compass. I haven't deviated a hair's breadth. Somewhere about here should be the first landmark--three rocks shaped like a camel lying down. But I can't see them."

"Nothing to worry about in that," said Frank. "Probably we haven't gone far enough. Let's push on."

"That must be it," said Jack with relief. "Well, come on."

Before they could get into motion, however, Bob uttered a warning whisper.

"Listen," he said. "I heard a horse stumble behind us on the trail."

They listened breathlessly a moment, but no further sound was heard.

"Keep your guns handy," whispered Jack. Whenever the three were together he took command. "Don't fire without cause, however," he whispered. "If there is someone behind us, it may be another traveller."

Again came the sound of a horse stumbling. All heard it distinctly. Jack peered into the darkness and called firmly:

"Who are you?"

"Challenge him in Spanish, why don't you?" muttered Frank.

Before Jack could repeat his challenge, however, a familiar voice replied:

"That you, Jack? This is Tom."

"Tom? Tom Bodine?"

"The same," replied the ex-cowboy, materializing out of the darkness, and approaching. "And glad I am," he added, "to find you."

"But, good gracious, Tom, is anything the matter? Why are you here? I thought we left you heading back for home five hours ago?"

"No, you just left me," said Tom. "That's all. I didn't head home, because I wanted to come along. Been a-trailin' you all the way. And here I am."

Jack was surprised, indeed. But now that Tom was with them, he experienced a sense of relief. To venture into a strange land without a guide, and in pitch darkness, besides, was a pretty stiff undertaking. The responsibility of looking after his friends was no light one.

"To tell the truth, Tom," Jack said, "I'm glad you came."

Bob and Frank echoed his words heartily.

"I had just about decided when you came up," Jack added, "that I had lost my way. Frank thought, however, we merely hadn't gone far enough to find your landmarks."

"He was right," said Tom. "You come straight as a die. All we got to do is to ride on a piece an' we'll be in the snuggest cave ever you see."

Riding two abreast, Tom and Jack in the lead and Frank and Bob close behind, they pressed on another twenty minutes when Tom called a halt to indicate a clump of rocks close at hand which suggested in their outline a crouching camel. Then he led the way toward the left.

"Wait, wait," called Bob, in a tense voice that reached the ears of all, and caused them to halt. "Keep your horses quiet and listen. There. I was right."

All sat silent, and distinctly there came to their ears the hum of an approaching airplane.