José was a Piman, and she immediately connected José with the perpetration, or at least the planning of her abduction. Thus she felt assured that no harm would come to her, since José had been famous in his time for the number and size of the ransoms he had collected.
Her father would pay what was demanded, she would be returned and, aside from a few days of discomfort and hardship, she would be none the worse off for her experience. Reasoning thus it was not difficult to maintain her composure and presence of mind.
As Barbara was borne toward the east, Billy Byrne rode steadily northward. It was his intention to stop at José’s hut and deliver the message which Pesita had given him for the old Indian. Then he would disappear into the mountains to the west, join Pesita and urge a new raid upon some favored friend of General Francisco Villa, for Billy had no love for Villa.
He should have been glad to pay his respects to El Orobo Rancho and its foreman; but the fact that Anthony Harding owned it and that he and Barbara were there was sufficient effectually to banish all thoughts of revenge along that line.
“Maybe I can get his goat later,” he thought, “when he’s away from the ranch. I don’t like that stiff, anyhow. He orter been a harness bull.”
It was four o’clock in the morning when Billy dismounted in front of José’s hut. He pounded on the door until the man came and opened it.
“Eh!” exclaimed José as he saw who his early morning visitor was, “you got away from them. Fine!” and the old man chuckled. “I send word to Pesita two, four hours ago that Villistas capture Capitan Byrne and take him to Cuivaca.”
“Thanks,” said Billy. “Pesita wants you to send Esteban to him. I didn’t have no chance to tell you last night while them pikers was stickin’ aroun’, so I stops now on my way back to the hills.”
“I will send Esteban tonight if I can get him; but I do not know. Esteban is working for the pig, Grayson.”
“Wot’s he doin’ fer Grayson?” asked Billy. “And what was the Grayson guy doin’ up here with you, José? Ain’t you gettin’ pretty thick with Pesita’s enemies?”
“José good friends everybody,” and the old man grinned. “Grayson have a job he want good men for. José furnish men. Grayson pay well. Job got nothin’ do Pesita, Villa, Carranza, revolution—just private job. Grayson want señorita. He pay to get her. That all.”
“Oh,” said Billy, and yawned. He was not interested in Mr. Grayson’s amours. “Why didn’t the poor boob go get her himself?” he inquired disinterestedly. “He must be a yap to hire a bunch o’ guys to go cop off a siwash girl fer him.”
“It is not a siwash girl, Señor Capitan,” said José. “It is one beautiful señorita—the daughter of the owner of El Orobo Rancho.”
“What?” cried Billy Byrne. “What’s that you say?”
“Yes, Señor Capitan, what of it?” inquired José. “Grayson he pay me furnish the men. Esteban he go with his warriors. I get Esteban. They go tonight take away the señorita; but not for Grayson,” and the old fellow laughed. “I can no help can I? Grayson pay me money get men. I get them. I no help if they keep girl,” and he shrugged.
“They’re comin’ for her tonight?” cried Billy.
“Si, señor,” replied José. “Doubtless they already take her.”
“Hell!” muttered Billy Byrne, as he swung Brazos about so quickly that the little pony pivoted upon his hind legs and dashed away toward the south over the same trail he had just traversed.
XV
An Indian’s Treachery
The Brazos pony had traveled far that day but for only a trifle over ten miles had he carried a rider upon his back. He was, consequently, far from fagged as he leaped forward to the lifted reins and tore along the dusty river trail back in the direction of Orobo.
Never before had Brazos covered ten miles in so short a time, for it was not yet five o’clock when, reeling with fatigue, he stopped, staggered and fell in front of the office building at El Orobo.
Eddie Shorter had sat in the chair as Barbara and Billy had last seen him waiting until Byrne should have an ample start before arousing Grayson and reporting the prisoner’s escape. Eddie had determined that he would give Billy an hour. He grinned as he anticipated the rage of Grayson and the Villistas when they learned that their bird had flown, and as he mused and waited he fell asleep.
It was broad daylight when Eddie awoke, and as he looked up at the little clock ticking against the wall, and saw the time he gave an exclamation of surprise and leaped to his feet. Just as he opened the outer door of the office he saw a horseman leap from a winded pony in front of the building. He saw the animal collapse and sink to the ground, and then he recognized the pony as Brazos, and another glance at the man brought recognition of him, too.
“You?” cried Eddie. “What are you doin’ back here? I gotta take you now,” and he started to draw his revolver; but Billy Byrne had him covered before ever his hand reached the grip of his gun.
“Put ’em up!” admonished Billy, “and listen to me. This ain’t no time fer gunplay or no such foolishness. I ain’t back here to be took—get that out o’ your nut. I’m tipped off that a bunch o’ siwashes was down here last night to swipe Miss Harding. Come! We gotta go see if she’s here or not, an’ don’t try any funny business on me, Eddie. I ain’t a-goin’ to be taken again, an’ whoever tries it gets his, see?”
Eddie was down off the porch in an instant, and
