The Boy Scouts Under Fire in Mexico

Of course, if the two Mexican soldiers made any attempt to run off their mounts, Rob knew very well that they could not stand for that; since to be forced to foot it all the way to Chihuahua, across burning desert sands, and rough hilly country, was a prospect that did not appeal to him at all.

Fortunately the pair of cavalrymen did not dream of attacking nearly three times their number. They just took it out in staring, and possibly saying things back and forth. Then, as though they had decided that retreat was the best play, since they were plainly outnumbered, suddenly both men wheeled their horses and went galloping swiftly away, sitting their saddles with that grace that seems to be a natural heritage of all Mexicans.

"Good riddance of bad rubbage!" called out Merritt; though the boy was undoubtedly relieved to see the cavalrymen depart without a fight.

Whether the men heard what he said or not, they turned and shook their fists in the direction of the scouts; and from the threatening gestures that followed this action it was plainly to be seen that they did not mean this to be the last time they expected to meet the little party.

Rob turned to Lopez when the pair had vanished from view, and he could no longer catch the heavy thud of their horses' hoofs on the hard ground.

He found the guide frowning, and this fact told Rob what to expect.

"That spells trouble for us, doesn't it, Lopez?" he asked; while Tubby, Merritt and Andy hung upon what was passing between guide and patrol leader.

The Mexican shrugged his shoulders.

"If they can make it so, we will be followed, young señor," he remarked. "You saw for yourself they were Federal cavalrymen, the same that General Salazar he have send out to cut the railroad between Chihuahua and the river. All men who fight for Huerta hate Yankee gringoes; and they see these uniforms, so they understand you are Americano soldiers. That is bad!"

"So that's the way the land lies!" remarked Merritt. "Well, we do not intend taking off these good old suits and wearing anything else, not if we know it. But see here, Lopez, what if those fellows should take a notion to sneak around on us, and try a shot from the rear?"

"Not much chance of that, with all these thickets around, which Lopez calls the chaparral," Rob told him; "but I'll just wander off a bit, and see if I can glimpse them going. If that fails, I'll keep watch while the rest of you eat breakfast. Get busy, Andy and Tubby, so we'll have that agony over in a hurry."

"Agony!" repeated Tubby indignantly. "Well, I like that, now, don't you, Andy? As if eating could ever be a task!"

Passing out of the hidden camp, Rob found a place where he could get an uninterrupted view of the lower country. And it was not long before he discovered two mounted men, whom he easily recognized as their unbidden visitors, spurring away as fast as their horses could take them. When the scout saw them look back several times, he no longer doubted that they were positively the men he had come to watch.

It made Rob a trifle uneasy to note the fact that the cavalrymen had departed in almost a southerly direction; because that might indicate future trouble for the little expedition.

When he showed up in camp again breakfast was just ready.

"Hello! changed your mind about not wanting to eat, have you, Rob?" hailed Tubby.

"Oh! you mistook what I said," replied the other laughingly, as he threw himself down, selected a pannikin, and proceeded to slide several slices of fried bacon out of the skillet. Then as he accepted the tin cup of fragrant coffee which Merritt hastened to pour for him, he added, "Guess I like to eat when I'm hungry as well as anybody."

"But you draw the line there, don't you, Rob?" demanded Andy. "You don't want to eat any old time, whether you're hungry or not, like some fellows we know?"

"Yes, we know a few, Andy," Tubby hastened to thrust in, realizing that this was meant for his especial benefit; "and I notice that you're copying after me in great shape, so that soon I'll have to take a back seat."

"But what about those two cavalrymen, Rob?" asked Merritt, more deeply interested in seeking information along these lines than in learning which of the two disputing scouts could boast of the greater appetite.

"They've kicked the dust of this part of the country from their boots, and are riding pellmell away to the south," Rob answered. "I reckon there must be a big bunch of hard riders over there somewhere. All I hope is that we don't run foul of them during the day and find ourselves pursued."

Tubby, at that, forgot all about his controversy with Andy.

"What, us chased by a lot of greaser cavalry?" he exclaimed. "Jiminy crickets! I hope that don't happen! I am not in the best shape going to do any tall riding; though if I'm hard pushed, you'll find me sticking to my horse like a mustard plaster. Mebbe you'll have to take a crow-bar next time, Rob, to pry me loose from my saddle."

"Well, let's get through eating as soon as we can," Rob told him; "because this isn't any time to take things easy."

"Huh! always rushing me when I just get settled down to enjoy a little bite of grub which I've helped cook," grumbled Tubby. But seeing that the others were making haste, he set his jaws to working at double pace; and when no one was looking he even managed to slip some of the hard tack into his pocket. If they did force him to shorten his breakfast hour to ten minutes, he wanted something to set his teeth into during the long hours that must elapse before they found another chance to break their fast.

The horses were soon saddled and packed, so that the camp in the thicket could be abandoned. Of course, as usual, they had to wait for Tubby, because something was always wrong with his bridle, or else the girth needed shortening so that his saddle would not turn with him as it had threatened to do many times the day before.

Finally the start was made.

The morning was fresh and clear; and while the day might turn out to be hot enough toward noon to "fry an egg on a stone in the sun," as Andy expressed it, the boys certainly enjoyed that first hour's gallop. Tubby, who soon found his former troubles coming back, did not have unalloyed pleasure, although he did not complain.

It was a fine stretch of country, and yet Rob knew that they were really not far from the dreary desert. At times, when they had a chance to look off to one side, they could see a vast level territory with not a single tree to break its monotony, nothing but the dry sand that each wind would send scurrying along to form new hillocks and valleys.

But they had also discovered something else that pleased them more. This was an occasional glimpse of the railroad that ran between Chihuahua and Juarez, being long known as the Mexican Central. In other days, before revolutions came again to vex Uncle Sam's southern neighbor, it had run without interruption all the way from the Rio Grande to Mexico City, many hundreds of miles.

For some time past this road had been first in the hands of the rebels, and then in the possession of the Federals. As each in turn tried to destroy as much of the track and rolling stock as possible before vacating, it can be understood that conditions were pretty bad all along the road at this time.

It was the intention of Rob later on in the day to seek this line of rusty rails and keep following it south. He anticipated meeting with a party of Villa's men, perhaps before dark set in. Making friends with them, he would demand to be taken into the presence of the commanding general, whether he happened to be in far-off Chihuahua, or at some point nearer by. He might even be chasing the marauding bands of Federals that were playing fast and loose with the railroad, on which he depended to move his men and munitions of war from Juarez south, on the way to Mexico City.

They kept on riding constantly for several hours. Even Merritt and Andy felt the strain, which must have been unusually severe on poor Tubby; but no one heard the gamey fat scout give even a groan. Often, when Rob would turn his head to look over his shoulder, he could not help but see the look of "never-say-die" that was imprinted on Tubby's glowing face, and notice how he kept mopping his streaming forehead.

But they were covering considerable distance, and that was a great comfort. Tubby had much more at stake than any one of his three chums, and he must, as the boys always said, "grin and bear it." In fact, there was nothing else that could be done, since going back now was out of the question; nor would Tubby have allowed any one to mention such a thing to him.

Once when Rob dropped back to ask him how he felt, Tubby knew that the leader was really solicitous about his welfare and had not made the inquiry merely in fun.

"I can stand it, Rob!" was all he said between his closely shut teeth; and knowing Tubby as well as he did, Rob felt sure that the fat boy would hold out, unless he actually fell from his saddle.

At noon they halted in order to rest the horses, and at the same time themselves have a bite. Again did Rob have to assist Tubby to alight, though the other began to frisk around shortly, as though grimly determined on showing them all that he had only been stiff from sitting so long, and was far from being done up.

It took a whole lot of grit for Tubby to mount when the time came to make a fresh start; but he seemed to feel that curious eyes were watching all he did; so summoning his reserve strength, he clambered into his saddle, and tried to look as happy as though he did not feel that he was sitting on an inverted pincushion.

Just one hour later they noticed a dense smoke rising ahead, which Lopez, on being asked, told them could only come from some burning bridge. That would seem to indicate that they must now be getting into the danger zone where Regulars and rebels were engaged in a game of tag, one side doing the chasing now, and the other presently turning the tables on them.

The little party had come down to more level ground and were heading for the railroad, when Rob, chancing to look back, meaning to see how Tubby was coming along, made a discovery that gave him an unpleasant feeling.

"We're being pursued, boys!" he called out, thinking it best that all of them should know the truth at once, however unpleasant it might prove.

Of course there was an immediate craning of necks, and startled exclamations from the other chums.

"Two dozen, if there's a man!" cried Merritt.

"And Mexican Regulars, too, for they wear uniforms, which the rebels don't!" added Andy. "Looks like we might be in for a lively run, doesn't it, Rob? And with our horses anything but fresh into the bargain!"

"Ginger snaps and pop guns!" Tubby was heard to say; "that settles my hash all right!"

CHAPTER XVII.

THE WHISTLE OF PASSING BULLETS

"They seem to be gaining on us!" said Merritt uneasily. "Hadn't we better romp ahead a little faster, boys?"

"Sure! Hit up the pace all you want!" It was neither Rob nor Andy who made this game reply, but Tubby! This response drew Rob's heart closer to the fat chum than ever before. A fellow who could show such nerve would have the best chance in the world to become a first-class scout, when once he woke up and began to study as he should.

They proceeded to coax their horses to pick up some, and for a time the gallant animals did manage more than to hold their own with the pursuers; but when half an hour had passed even Tubby could see that the distance separating them from that hustling lot of hard riders did not appear to be quite as great as after the spurt.

"Say, do we fight for it if we are cornered?" Andy wanted to know. When the patrol leader turned to glance back at him, he saw that while the boy's face might be somewhat pale, there was a dogged look around the eyes that spoke volumes.

"Well, they say that Boy Scouts never should fight unless driven into a corner, where they have to defend themselves to save their own lives, or the lives of others," Rob shouted back.

"That settles it, then," Andy replied. And Rob could see that considerable of his anxiety must have been connected with his doubt as to whether it should be their duty as lovers of peace to give up and surrender without striking a blow, or resist; for he even seemed tickled with what Rob had told him.

No one asked Tubby what he thought about matters. It was enough for them to know that the fat and clumsy chum was there in his saddle still, and managing by some means to keep close behind them. His horse must have suffered exceedingly, bearing all that heavy load; and it was lucky Rob had been wise enough to select an especially sturdy beast when thinking of Tubby.

The pursuers were not all in a bunch, but scattered, according to the ability of their mounts to maintain the killing pace. Undoubtedly, they were urged on by the big cruel Mexican spurs, which, of course, every cavalryman wore on his boot heels.

This might seem to be a trifling matter; but Rob knew better. If it really came to a running fight, as seemed likely, they would profit by the fact that only a minority of their pursuers could fire upon them, the rest being either too far off, or else fearful lest they might hit their comrades in advance.

Meanwhile they were approaching the big smoke that kept rising ahead, and which must mean a burning bridge on the railroad, and perhaps a stalled train into the bargain.

Rob found himself wondering what sort of reception they would receive should they find a party of Villa's rebels holding out against the Regulars. He had already laid his plans and communicated them to his chums, so that each would know just what was expected of him in the emergency.

Already several shots had been fired by the leading horsemen, but as they were still pretty far distant, and as it is next to impossible to do any serious business with a gun while going at such headlong speed, of course these were sent after the fugitives more as an act of bravado and alarm, than in the hope that any bullet might find its mark.

At the same time it was not very pleasant for the scouts to hear those leaden messengers singing so merrily through the air over their heads, – for all the world like so many bees or locusts, as they afterward decided.

Every time a gun sounded, Tubby involuntarily ducked his head and tried to flatten himself out on the neck of his horse, an utterly impossible thing, on account of his build. He seemed to think that they must always pick him out for a target, because he offered such a fine mark.

"Guess you'd do the same, too," he called out to Andy, when he saw the grin on the other's face as he turned in time to see one of these performances, "if you made a shining mark like I do! And being in the rear adds to my chance of stopping one of those lead pills. Anyway, I'm going to do the trick right along, no matter what you think, Andy Bowles!"

"And you're right about that, Tubby!" called Merritt. "Even when you lie down flat you make a better mark than most of us do sitting up!"

"Keep your breath, fellows; you may need all of it!" Rob called out just then, and this stopped the controversy.

Rob urged his horse alongside that of the Mexican guide.

"How are we going to come out of it, Lopez?" he asked anxiously. "Will they get at us before we make the smoke?"

The experienced eye of the other had before now accurately measured the distances; and doubtless he was figuring matters out at the time the scout broke in with this leading question.

"If no bad luck," Lopez assured him, "we surely come to the burning bridge before the wolf pack doubles us up, young señor."

"By bad luck you mean an accident?" Rob demanded.

Lopez shrugged his shoulders and cast a swift, meaning look back at poor fat Tubby, who was belaboring his tired mount with the flat of one hand, and urging the beast on and on. Evidently the guide had been half expecting an accident to happen in this quarter for some time, and was, in fact, surprised that the clumsy scout had held on so long; but then, he did not know what a stubborn nature Tubby possessed.

"Si, señor, a horse might slip, and toss his rider; or it may be a passing bullet happen to go in the wrong place and do damage. Who can tell? But let us hope it will not so bad as that prove. We are doing well; and the smoke, it is not so far away as it seems!"

All of which must have been poor satisfaction to Rob, who from that moment found himself enduring new agonies every time he twisted around to see whether Tubby still held forth.

The horses were reeking with sweat, and while Rob did not pretend to be as experienced in such matters as a cow puncher would be, still even he understood that this sort of thing could not be kept up much longer.

Only for the presence of that smoke and the hope that they might run upon some friendly rebels at the burning bridge, he would have made up his mind that there was no other way for them to escape save by turning at bay and engaging in a regular fight with those persistent pursuers, who kept dogging the heels of their horses mile after mile, bent on running them down.

"What do you think of our chances for finding some of Villa's men ahead?" Rob asked the guide several minutes later. They were still keeping up a furious pace and fairly holding their own, though none of the horses in the race could be said to be running as fast as half an hour previously.

"It is an open chance," Lopez replied with another shrug.

"But the Federals set the bridge on fire; and after doing that they would hardly hang around, because this part of the country must be swarming with rebels, who would be drawn to the burning bridge by the smoke. Is that the way you figure it out, Lopez?"

"You have said what was in my mind, young señor," came the reply; "and that is why I have kept moving on all this while. Had it not been the hope of finding friends, before now they must have felt our lead."

"Then we're doing the right thing in trying to get to the bridge before letting them come up on us," Rob decided. And after that he bent his whole energy to carrying out the plan he had arranged.

He even fell back so that he could ride alongside Tubby; for Rob had often heard that no chain can be any stronger than its weakest link; and this must surely mean Tubby, in their case. If any accident befell the party, the chances were as ten to one it would spring from the fat scout.

And so Rob, believing in being prepared to meet things as they come along, even went so far as to figure out just what his course of action must be in case Tubby gave signs of falling off his horse, or the animal tripped in its headlong flight.

"It's only a little further, Tubby, so try your best to hold out!" he kept saying. "See, there's a spur of the hill jutting out, and the railroad comes around that. On the other side must be the Carmen River, where the bridge that is burning crosses. Just one more push and we'll be there in great shape. You're doing fine, I want to tell you, Tubby; I never thought you had it in you; and we're bound to get through this ride all right, believe me!"

No doubt this sort of encouraging talk did more than a little to keep Tubby from throwing up the sponge entirely; for he was close upon the point of complete exhaustion, and ready to own himself "all in."

"Try to think and tell me, Tubby," Rob went on earnestly, "where you've got those signal flags you brought all the way down here, because you said they might come in handy. I can use one right now, I believe."

"Reach in that pocket on the side of my bag toward you, Rob," replied Tubby in a gasping whisper. "You ought to find the lot there."

This Rob managed to do in spite of the fact that both horses were galloping at headlong speed.

Just then they cleared the point of the hill that jutted out close to the railroad track; and there in front of them lay the cause of the big smoke. The bridge was afire, just as they had believed. There was also a train stalled on the side near them, with its engine headed toward Juarez. Doubtless this was the one of which the boys had heard, which, starting from Chihuahua, laden with refugee Mexican families wanting to seek shelter over in Texas, had been lost somewhere on the way, held up by burned bridges, and possibly by other things in the way of damage done to the locomotive by the Federal's marauding cavalry parties.

As soon as Rob could manage to see what lay ahead, he felt cheered by the sight; for behind the cars he discovered dozens of men with guns, who seemed to be making a barrier of the train and exchanging long distance shots with some enemy perched upon the higher ground, undoubtedly Federals.

There seemed nothing for the scouts to do but to join their fortunes with those men of Villa's command who were holding the Regulars at bay. So, without slackening the speed of their horses a particle, the little party galloped forward, Rob leading the van and wildly waving one of the signal flags, which, being white with a small red center, could be looked upon as a flag of truce, and would surely keep the rebels from firing on them.

It must have astonished those fellows who were making a rampart of the stalled train to discover thus a party wearing khaki uniforms so like those of the American soldiers across the border, coming at headlong speed toward them, and being fired after by a pack of pursuers whom they readily recognized to be the regular troops of Huerta!

And since all enemies of the prevailing government must be looked on as friends to their cause, the Constitutionalists, as the rebels liked to call themselves, made no attempt to halt the advance of the Boy Scouts. They held their fire, waiting until the hard-pressed fugitives could reach shelter, when explanations might be in order.

But the unseen Regulars perched among the rocks on the hillside must have discovered that those they were engaged in fighting seemed to be receiving unexpected reinforcements, for they turned their attention to the oncoming riders, and once more the nerve-racking zip-zip of passing bullets gave Tubby a cold chill.

CHAPTER XVIII.

AT THE BURNING BRIDGE

It was really only the bad marksmanship of the men among the rocks some distance away, and the fact that the boys were now strung out in a disorganized line as they drew near the stalled train that saved the scouts from disaster, just as they saw a haven of refuge at hand.

The bullets continued to whine around them in a most disagreeable manner; while some, falling short, tore up the ground, causing little patches of dust to leap upward where they struck.

Tubby must have lived hours during those few but exciting minutes. Then, to his great satisfaction he found himself riding behind the cars of the train, where there were scores of people hiding, men, women and children, fugitives from the city that had fallen into Villa's hands once more. Some may have fled for fear that the rebel leader would confiscate all their possessions, because they had been on friendly terms with the troops of Huerta when the Government forces held the capital of Chihuahua State.

No one could say with what relief Tubby checked the onward rush of his charger; Rob did not have to come to his assistance this time, for the exhausted boy actually fell from the saddle, being caught by several grim rebels, who had come crowding around to find out who these parties were, and how it came that American soldiers dared invade the sacred soil of Mexico, – which, had it been an actual fact, would have served to unite both hostile factions against Uncle Sam's boys in khaki.

But Lopez had unlimbered his tongue by now, and was rattling off the greatest lot of jargon in Spanish the boys had ever listened to. They could only understand a word here and there; but that did not matter, for as he talked the guide made many gestures, and it was possible to tell what he was saying from these alone.

Many of the rebels crowded close around them, forming a circle, ten deep. Others had hurried to exchange shots with the late pursuers of the boys, and opened such a warm fire that the Regulars quickly turned and fled, doubtless to join later on with their comrades among the rocks, and plot to overwhelm the defenders of the stalled train.

When the name of General Villa was mentioned several times, and always with a grand sweep of the arm in the direction of the four scouts, Rob knew that Lopez was surely "spreading it on pretty thick." He must be telling the crowd that these gringo lads were great friends of the commanding general, and that they had come all the way down here, hundreds, yes, thousands of miles, just to see him, and tell him what a great patriot he was. And if this were so, then they must be looked on as comrades by every man who fought under Villa the Great; who would be very angry with any wretch so unlucky as to raise a finger to offend those whose friendship he valued so highly.