style="font-size:15px;"> As the trapper said this, he settled back on the bench, and looked at the boys, to observe the effect this astounding announcement would have upon them. He expected them to be greatly amazed, and they certainly were. Any four boys in the world would have been amazed to hear such a declaration fall from the lips of a man whom they knew to be strictly truthful, and who, moreover, was not jesting, but speaking in sober earnest. They looked at the trapper a moment, and then at one another, and finally Johnny and Dick Thomas burst into a loud laugh; while the cousins, who were better acquainted with their old friend, thrust their hands deep into their pockets with an air which said plainly that they did not understand the matter at all, and waited patiently for him to explain.
“You may believe it or not,” said Dick, “but it’s a fact, ’cause ole Bob seed it with his own eyes. He watched the hul thing from beginning to end, and it well-nigh skeered him to death.”
“What did he see?” asked Frank, growing more and more bewildered. “I didn’t suppose that Bob was afraid of any living thing.”
“Nor he aint, nuther,” returned the trapper, quickly. “But show him something that can’t be hurt by a rifle-ball, an’ he’ll take to his heels as quick as any body. As I was sayin’, the trail of them two hosses ended thar on the bank of that creek, an’ we couldn’t find it ag’in. Me an’ ole Bob puzzled our heads over it fur a long time, an’ we finally made up our minds that that ar’ old Spaniard, Don Carlos, could tell us all about the matter if he was a mind to, an’ Bob said that we would go back the next night, an’ watch his rancho. Wal, when the next night come, we couldn’t both go, ’cause your uncle said he wanted one of us to keep an eye on the stables: so I stayed at home, an’ ole Bob went alone. He was gone about three hours, an’ when he come back I seed a sight I never seed afore, an’ one I never expect to see ag’in. Ole Bob’s face was as white as a Sunday shirt, an’ he was shakin’ all over like a man with the ager.”
“What had he seen?” repeated Frank, who was impatient to get at the bottom of the mystery.
“Easy, easy, youngster, I’m comin’ to that,” replied Dick. “Now, I’ve knowed ole Bob ever since I was knee-high to a duck, an’ I’ve been with him in more ’n a hundred fights with Injuns, an’ Greasers, an’ varmints – sometimes, too, when we jest did get away with our ha’r, an’ that was all – but I never seed him skeered afore. It made me feel kinder funny, I tell you, ’cause I knowed that thar had been something onnatural goin’ on; an’ I aint ashamed to say that I looked all around this yere stable, to make sure that me an’ him were alone. The ole feller didn’t say any thing, till he had filled his pipe an’ smoked it about half out; an’ then he told me what he had seed. ‘Dick,’ says he, ‘thar’s been awful things agoin’ on about that ar’ old Greaser’s rancho, an’ if I hadn’t seed it all with my own two eyes, I shouldn’t believe it. I went down thar where we lost the trail last night, an’ arter hidin’ my hoss in the bushes, tuk up a position from which I could watch both sides of the creek. I knowed that Don Carlos had gone to bed, ’cause thar was no light about the rancho, an’ the doors an’ winder-shutters were all closed. I hadn’t been thar in the bushes long, afore I heered the trampin’ of hosses; but it stopped all of a sudden, an’ fur the next five minutes I lay thar on the ground listenin,’ an’ peepin’ through the trees, tryin’ to get a sight at the fellers. But I couldn’t see ’em, an’ finally I begun to crawl up closer.
“‘Now, the last time I looked at the rancho, it was dark an’ still, an’ thar wasn’t a sign of a human bein’ about it; an’ durin’ the two minutes I was crawlin’ t’wards them hossmen, thar wasn’t even the rustlin’ of a leaf to tell me that thar was any thing goin’ on. But sich fellers as them that live in that rancho don’t make no noise about their work. They had done a good deal in them two minutes; an’ when I looked acrost the creek ag’in, I knowed how it come that we had lost the trail of them hosses. I seed enough to skeer me wuss nor I was ever skeered afore, an’ if I could have got up from the ground, I should have made tracks from thar sudden: but, Dick, I couldn’t move – something held me fast.
“‘I told you that the last time I looked t’wards the rancho it was all dark, didn’t I? Wal, it wasn’t so now. The walls of the buildin’, an’ the bank of the creek, were lighted up by streaks of fire; an’ where they come from I couldn’t tell. Howsomever, I didn’t think much about that, fur I seed somethin’ else that made my ole ’coon-skin cap raise up on my head. It was a bridge of clouds, which ran from the wall of the buildin’ down to the water’s edge. Mebbe you won’t believe that, Dick, but I seed it with my own eyes. Them streaks of fire, that come from the rancho, lighted up every thing fur a hundred yards around; an’ I could see the clouds a rollin’ an’ tumblin’ like the smoke from the mouth of a cannon. More ’n that, thar was a small flatboat in the creek, which I hadn’t seed thar afore, an’ on it were four hosses an’ three men. Two of the hosses were Roderick and King Jeems. Each one had a feller on his back, an’ each feller was holdin’ another hoss by the bridle.
“‘By the time I had noted these things the boat begun to move, an’ then I seed something else that skeered me. That ar’ boat, Dick, was rowed acrost that creek without hands. It’s a fact, ’cause I seed it. I rubbed my eyes to make sure that I wasn’t dreamin’, but thar wasn’t no mistake about it. Them two fellers sot thar on their hosses, without layin’ a finger on an oar or paddle, the other stood in the starn, with his hands in his pockets, an’ yet the boat carried them acrost. It wasn’t no time in reachin’ the other bank, an’ when it stopped, the hossmen rode out on this bridge of clouds, which seemed to have been put thar on purpose fur them, and went t’wards the house. I kept clost watch of them, to see which way they turned, but they didn’t turn at all. They kept straight ahead, an’ went into the rancho. I rubbed my eyes ag’in, an’ when I opened ’em the boat wasn’t thar, the bridge of clouds had disappeared, the fire had gone out, an’ the rancho was as dark an’ silent as though thar had never been nobody about it. I tell you, Dick, I was skeered when I seed that; but I’ve got a leetle courage, I reckon, an’ I made up my mind that I would find out the meanin’ of them strange doin’s, or die a tryin’. I had seed them two fellers go into the rancho, an’ I wanted to know how they got in, an’ what they were goin’ to do thar. I didn’t stop to think the matter over, ’cause I knowed I should back out if I did; but jumpin’ to my feet, I ran down the bank of the creek to the water, an’ struck out for the other shore. I wasn’t long in gettin’ acrost, an’ presently I found myself standin’ clost to the wall where I had seed the fire shinin’, an’ where them two hossmen had gone in. Was I really awake? Had I seed any body about thar at all? Dick, thar wasn’t a door or winder on that side of the buildin’! The wall was as solid as the ground – not a single crack or crevice in it. How could them two fellers have gone through a stone wall five foot thick? I axed myself that question, an’ then I fetched a little whistle, an’ turned an’ run fur my life. I swum that creek quicker’n it was ever swum afore, I reckon; an’ when I reached my hoss, I put spurs to him, an’ come home a flyin’. I kept lookin’ back all the while, to see if thar wasn’t somethin’ follerin’ me, an’ I didn’t draw an easy breath until I come within sight of this rancho. I’ve seed an’ heered of a heap of queer things durin’ the sixty years I’ve been knocked about on the prairy, but this yere is a leetle ahead of ’em all.’ That’s the way old Bob told me his story, youngsters,” said Dick, in conclusion. “You may laugh at it if you want to, but I won’t, ’cause I know that every word of it is the truth.”
For a few moments after the trapper ceased speaking, the boys stood looking at him and at one another in blank amazement. His story reminded them of the tales of enchantment they had read in the Arabian Nights. As strange as it may seem, however, they were not so much astonished at the recital of the singular events that had happened at the old Spaniard’s rancho, as they were to know that Roderick and King James had been seen to go in there. Frank turned the matter over in his mind, and told himself that he had heard something that would, sooner
