The Mark On The Door Part 13

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE FIGURE IN THE FIRELIGHT.

the Hardy boys could not understand what Pedro Vincenzo and his satellite were saying, but they could guess. The two men were talking about Fenton Hardy, and from their actions there was no doubt but that they hoped soon to have the detective in their power, if they had not done so already.

What did Vincenzo know? What was the reason for the glee of the two conspirators?

Frank and Joe were not enlightened further, for the two men moved on down the river bank past the rocks, and then ascended the flight of steps leading to the ledge above.

"Well," said Joe, when the pair had vanished, "there's our man. What are we going to do about it?"

"There are several things we might do," replied Frank.

"For instance?" asked Joe.

"Let's shadow him."

"Vincenzo? Now?"

"Why not?"

150.

151 "It's too dangerous," Joe objected. "He's on the ripper level now, with all the natives to help him if he catches us."

"I don't care," said Frank. "He's the man who can lead us to Elmer Tremmer if he is alive, and that's our reason for being in this country. Come on."

Cautiously the boys followed the wily Mexi-can and his cohort. Luck was with them, for no one else appeared and the men ahead were in too much of a hurry to look back.

"Down!" suddenly commanded Frank, who Iras climbing the steps ahead of his brother.

Instantly the two lads huddled under an over-hanging cliff.

"Pedro stepped into a cave just above us," whispered Frank. "The other fellow went on ahead."

For fifteen minutes the Hardys waited. Then they saw the man they were after emerge from the cave and ascend once more. "After him! "said Frank. "No," replied Joe. "I'm going to investi-gate that place Vincenzo just came from. He's pleading for the camp and we don't dare follow him. I want to have a look inside that cave, anyway.''

* For several minutes after entering the en-tlosure the boys could see nothing. As their *yes gradually became accustomed to the semi152 The Mark on the Door darkness, they began to look around and at first were disappointed that apparently the cave was empty.

Then suddenly Joe pointed.

"The mark!" he exclaimed. "The mark of Pedro!"

There it was. The burning f.a.gots with the letter P in the flames scratched into the wall.

"Wonder if it means anything," commented Frank, running his hands over the surface where the symbol had been crudely sketched on. "I'd like to bet-oh!"

The boy's slender fingers had found a slight depression and in a moment were pulling at a section of the side. A good-sized stone came away, revealing a deep niche.

Frank reached in quickly, and to the surprise and delight of the boys drew forth an oblong box wrapped in a newspaper. Bus.h.i.+ng to the cave entrance, they were amazed to find the sheet to be printed in English.

"The-the Bayport Star," Bayport Star," exclaimed Joe, as he noted the items more closely. "And the exclaimed Joe, as he noted the items more closely. "And the date-the date is the day when we started on this mystery!"

The brothers were so excited at their find, and for a few minutes so struck with a wave of homesickness as they read names and events so familiar to them, that they failed utterly to see the full significance of their discovery.

153 Frank was the first to recover composure and realize the importance of the matter.

"Joe, I think we've stumbled upon something valuable," he said. "Perhaps the contents of this box came from Bayport, too."

Quickly the boys opened the wooden chest which was branded with Pedro's peculiar insignia, and saw rolls and rolls of American bank bills of large denomination, held together with elastic bands. "With them was a notation in Spanish which the Hardys figured out to indicate that the money was Vincenzo's share in the sale of the fake Eio Oil Company stock.

"So the man had no money to pay his helpers!" said Joe in disgust. "That fellow is several kinds of a scoundrel." "These bills don't belong to him by rights, I'm sure," was Frank's rejoinder. "I suggest we hide this box in another cave, and then tell the authorities about it later."

"Fine idea," agreed Joe.

Together the boys scouted around a bit, watching carefully so they would not be seen, and at last found a deep crevice which seemed to suit their purpose. Into it they pushed their valuable find, and made a clear mental note of the location.

"Score one for us," said Joe. "Now to es-cape from this place and get some help."

"We can't go any farther up the steps. It's 154.

The Mark on the Door too risky,'' Frank said. '' I think we had better work our way along the river bank until we're a good distance from the camp. Then we may be able to find our way to the main trail."

As this seemed to be the most feasible plan, the brothers emerged from their hiding place and went down the stone stairway. Then they headed for the shelter of some rocks farther down the sh.o.r.e. They had gone no more thaa a few steps, however, before Joe uttered a yell of alarm and leaped wildly to one side.

A harsh warning rattle sounded. Right in the boy's path a huge snake was coiled in the sunlight. It It struck viciously, uncoiling itself to its full length in the twinkling of an eye. struck viciously, uncoiling itself to its full length in the twinkling of an eye.

Fortunately Joe had caught sight of the rattler just in time, and sprang out of reach as the wicked head flashed past his foot.

Frank s.n.a.t.c.hed up a heavy rock and hurled it at the snake. The reptile gathered itself into a coil again, hissing evilly. The lad's aim was bad, and the rock clattered harmlessly to one side. Then Joe hurled a stone, striking the creature in the back. Thereupon the rattler lashed out once more, but in a moment went writhing swiftly toward the rocks.

This had taken only a few seconds, but Joe'B shout of alarm and the subsequent noise on tho rocks had not gone unheard. From the ledge above came a surprised yell. When the boy*

The Figure in the the Firelight 155 Firelight 155 looked up they saw a native standing at the top of the stone steps.

'' Bun!'' exclaimed Frank. The Hardys went racing down the river bank. Behind them the half-breed was already raising the alarm, and when Frank glanced back over his shoulder he saw half a dozen of the outcast Indians leaping down the steps in pursuit.

Frank and Joe bolted around an outcropping of rock. To their dismay, they found that the river bank became very narrow at this point, sloping directly toward the water in a steep declivity from the ledge above. They went scrambling up the slope, grabbing at bits of rock and tiny bushes to aid them. In their hearts they knew it was useless. They could never hope to outdistance the fleet-footed na-tives.

The man who had first seen them was now close behind. Yelling with triumph, he began to ascend the slope in pursuit. At the same time the boys could see other Indians running along the ledge above to cut off any way of escape at the top of the bank.

"No chance," said Joe bitterly. "They've caught us."

With natives close at their heels and others waiting for them at the head of the slope, the boys found escape impossible. Wearily they pulled themselves up to the ledge, where they 156.

The Mark on the Door were instantly seized by three dark-skinned Indians, who bound the arms of the unfortunates behind their backs.

There was a great deal of chattering and loud talking. The man who had discovered their escape came up grinning with pride, evidently thinking very well of himself.

"If it hadn't been for that rattlesnake," muttered Joe, "we might have got away."

They were marched back to the camp in disgrace. Frank was hoping that Pedro Vincenzo would make an appearance, but neither he nor his companion were anywhere to be seen, although all the natives and some of the bandits gathered around to learn the cause of the disturbance.

One of the bandits came up and consulted briefly with the natives. Then he gave a curt order and the prisoners were hustled away.

This time they were not taken back up the trail to the cave in the face of the cliff. They were brought to a niche on the lower level, much nearer the camp. It was a dismal little hole like a dungeon. As soon as the boys had been thrust roughly through the entrance, a native armed with a revolver took up his position a few yards from the opening and squatted down in the sun.

The boys were now in a worse plight than ever; under close guard, with no further chance 157 of escape, their hands bound so tightly that they had little freedom of movement. After an hour or so their arms were aching. Franlk called out to the guard.

"You don't need to keep us tied up. Cut the ropes. We won't get away."

The man stared at them blankly. As well as they could the boys tried to make him understand, yet the fellow was either stupid or he had no intention of cutting their bonds, for he simply turned his back and paid no further attention to them.

"I'm just beginning to remember that we haven't eaten this morning," said Joe miserably.

"I'm as hungry as a bear."

"Surely they don't intend to starve us. Of course, it's our own fault that we weren't on hand at breakfast time."

Frank called to the guard again and tried to make further signs indicating that they were hungry. But the man merely laughed and turned away again.

Hours pa.s.sed. The boys were in the depths of wretchedness. Another native came up and replaced their former guard. This man seemed of a more friendly disposition, for he came into the cave, took a knife from his belt and cut the ropes, apparently realizing that it was needless cruelty to keep the prisoners tied up while under close supervision.

158.

The Mark on the Door Again Frank and Joe made signs to indicate their hunger. Although the man evidently understood, he shook his head, pointed down to the camp, and burst into a lengthy explanation which the boys could not interpret. They did gather, however, that he did not dare get them anything to eat.

"I guess he has to obey orders," Frank said, stretching his arms, which were stiff and sore. "Maybe we're lucky we weren't shot for trying to escape."

The day wore on slowly. The guard was sympathetic enough to bring them some water.

Although they were made to suffer from hunger, they were not forced to endure the added torture of thirst.

"I wonder where Yaqui is now," said Joe reflectively.

"Halfway home, probably. I hope he tells Senor Marcheta what has happened to us."

"It's strange the natives haven't been making a fuss about his escape."

"Perhaps he didn't escape after all," said Joe significantly. "He may have been killed trying to get away, for all we know."

The boys spent a miserable day. When they left Bayport, excited over the prospect of an adventurous trip to Texas, they had not bargained for anything like this. As night came, their discouragement became greater. A nevf nevf 159 guard appeared on the scene, bringing with him a substantial supper which he ate on the adobe platform outside the entrance, smacking his lips over every mouthful. The boys tried to persuade him to share the food with them, much as it hurt their pride to do so, but he shrugged his shoulders and continued to gormandize.

"Greedy brute!" said Frank.

"I feel absolutely hollow."

When the guard had finished his supper he paced up and down before the entrance to the cave. After a while Frank and Joe heard a shout, which the sentinel answered. A moment later he came to the doorway and beckoned to them.

"Supper time!" exclaimed Joe gleefully.

"Maybe."

The boys went outside. Up near the camp they could see a great fire blazing, and in the light of the flames they saw figures moving to and fro. Then a drum began to beat monotonously.

Frank gulped.

"I hope they don't intend to burn us at the Stake!"

The guard growled an irritable command and thrust them ahead. The flickering flames, the s.h.i.+fting figures in the firelight, the monotonous pounding of the drum created a triii 160.

The Mark on the Door and savage effect. A group of natives sitting just beyond the circle of radiance were chanting solemnly.

"It must be some sort of ceremonial dance," remarked Joe, with as much confidence as he could muster.

Frankly, lie did not like the looks of the situation at all. "What barbaric rites might be practiced here in the heart of the mountains he did not know, yet he was prepared for anything.

A tall native with his head wound about in colorful bandages and his face painted horribly, leaped out from the circle and motioned to the guard, who brought the prisoners over immediately. No one else paid any attention to them. The Indian with the painted face was evidently a medicine man, for he appeared to be in full charge of the ceremony, directing the natives who danced wildly around the fire and continued their droning chant to the beating of the drum.

Frank's attention was caught by a raised platform not far away, where a small figure was seated in state watching the performance. The man was enveloped in a gay blanket and had a headband about his hair. Though he was dressed as a native, Frank saw at a glance that the man was neither a Mexican nor an Indian.

161 That man! In this place!

Frank nudged Joe vigorously and indicated the person on the platform.

At that moment one of the half-breeds threw a great heap of f.a.gots on the fire. They ignited with a roar and the flames leaped high into the air. The whole face of the cliff was illuminated with a ruddy glow. So intense was the light that the Hardy boys could now see the white man's face clearly.

A simultaneous cry of recognition broke from their lips, although the smooth shaven individual was changed from the last time the Hardys had seen him.

"Elmer Tremmer!"

CHAPTER XIX.

VAIN PLEADINGS.

in spite of their surprise and the gravity of their position, the Hardy boys almost laughed aloud when they saw the missing witness, the former Bayport bookkeeper, sitting in state in his outlandish garb.

Elmer Tremmer had always been a meek, inoffensive man inclined to rusty black suits and linen collars, the soul of respectability and conventionality. To see him in this wild place, with a blanket about him and a band around his gray hair, was almost too ridiculous. From the expression on Elmer Tremmer's face he did not seem to be enjoying himself; he appeared to realize that he was quite as much out of place here as one of the natives would have been in a Bayport office.

"Elmer Tremmer, and in a box seat!" exclaimed Frank.