The Battle At Three-Cross (17 page)

“But why capture me?” Lance asked.

The Yaquente shrugged his shoulders. “Big chief, him point out you. Call you man with hair like fire. I'm see you when you brought in. I'm remember how you save me from whipeeng. I'm save you from
sacrificio
. I'm no
obligación
——”

“Whoa! Sure, your debt's discharged, if that's what you mean. But I don't get this.” Lance asked more questions. Gradually it dawned on him; his eyes widened. “Me?” he exclaimed. “A human sacrifice to your god—that snake with feathers?”

The Indian nodded stolidly, then went through the motions of cutting open his breast and tearing out his heart. Lance shivered. The Yaquente's appearance of uneasiness increased. Now he hurried faster. He refused to reply to more than a few of Lance's questions. Abruptly they arrived at a steep incline covered with loose rock. Together they clambered up the face of the incline. Great boulders were at the crest. There seemed to be some sort of twisted passage among the boulders. Eventually they arrived at a point where a great plain opened up before them. Lance saw grazing country and a few cows scattered here and there. Then his heart gave a great leap. Not ten miles away he saw a group of adobe buildings, tiny in the bright, sunlit distance.

“Your friends there,” the Yaquente grunted. He started to follow a steep path down to a clump of trees at the bottom. Lance followed closely on his heels. Finally they stopped at the foot of the descent,
and there, under a mesquite tree, Lance saw his roan gelding tethered. “Jeepers!” Lance exclaimed. “Horatio, you don't forget anything. The
caballo!
Horse!”

The Yaquente grinned. “I'm steal heem from corral,” he stated proudly. “You ride. Leave countree. Not safe. Go 'way queeck!”

Lance shook hands again. He invited the Indian to get up behind him on the horse, but the Yaquente refused. “Adiós!” he said, and stepped into a clump of high brush. The next instant he had disappeared. Lance called to him twice, but there was no answer. The Indian had taken his departure with all the stealth of the snake he worshiped. Lance waited a minute longer, then mounted and turned the horse's head in the direction of the ranch buildings he had seen.

Lance strode steadily for some time. The Three-Cross buildings were nearer now. He could make out a clump of cottonwood trees and a windmill whirring in the breeze. From time to time he had passed a few cattle bearing on the left ribs the Three-Cross brand. Other cattle were unbranded. None of the animals appeared to be of high-grade stock. As he drew nearer the ranch buildings Lance saw a long adobe ranch house fronted by a gallery that stretched across the entire front of the structure. There were a bunk house, corrals and other miscellaneous buildings. There were a few horses in one of the corrals, but of human life about the place there was no sign.

Lance dismounted before the house, mounted two low stone steps and strode across the flag-paved gallery. A door stood slightly open before him. He pushed it the rest of the way and found himself gazing into a long room with many Indian rugs scattered about on its beaten earth floor. There was a big fireplace at one end. On the white-washed walls were a couple of mounted deer heads and one or two framed pictures. Here and there a
chimayo
blanket made a vivid splash of yellow or scarlet to add to
the decorative effect. Comfortable chairs, well worn, and a long, low table holding a clutter of miscellaneous objects helped fill up the room. There seemed to be a great deal of dust over everything, and it didn't look as though the ranch house had had a good sweeping in some time.

“Huh,” Lance grunted, “if Malcolm Fletcher pulled out of Pozo Verde in such a hurry to come down here and get the place ready for Katherine it sure looks like he forgot his good intentions before he arrived.” He walked on into the room, closing the door behind him, and raised his voice: “Anybody home? Hey! Katherine! Oscar! Professor!”

His call received instant results. He caught a startled cry, and a door at one end of the room burst open. Katherine stood there, her long yellow hair loose and hanging below her waist. She was still in overalls, dusty, torn overalls. Her face was smudged with dirt. The girl paused in the doorway, her deep blue eyes growing wider and wider. “Lance? Lance! Is it really you?” she half whispered. Suddenly a glad cry was torn from her lips, and she came forward.

Things happened pretty quick after that. Before he realized what he was doing Lance moved toward the girl, and his arms whipped hungrily about her. Her face lifted to his. Thereafter there was silence for some time. Finally Katherine broke away, her face crimson under the smudges of dirt.

“Yeah, it's me—I'm back.” Lance grinned.

Katherine said, “You certainly came back with a rush. Lance! Things happened to us all of a sudden, didn't they? I didn't know I was going to do that and then—then——”

“I know.” Lance grinned happily. “I hadn't intended
to say a thing until—until after things get straightened out but I kind of got swept off my feet.”

“You did a good job of sweeping yourself, mister.” Katherine smiled. “And look at me! I'm a sight.”

Lance started toward the girl again, arms outstretched, but Katherine warded him off. “Sight or no sight”—Lance chuckled—“isn't there a saying to the effect that a new broom sweeps clean?”

At that minute a door at the opposite end of the room opened, and Professor Jones appeared. “Bless me!” he exclaimed. “Thought I heard your voice, Lance. Couldn't believe it.” He paused, noticing their blushing faces and taking in the situation at a glance. “Look groggy—both of you.” He smiled. “Sudden triumph for the emotions, eh? What? Don't blame you. Young myself once, y'understand. Katherine—I—both worried. Lance! Where in hell you been?” He had Lance's hand in his by this time, shaking it soundly.

“It's sure a relief to find you two,” Lance said, “but where's all the rest? I'll tell my story in a minute.”

“Everybody else is looking for you,” Katherine said. “We've all been out all night. Uncle Uly and I just got back. Oscar was with us. I simply had to clean up. Then I heard your voice. Oscar's gone to Muletero to see if he could learn anything. It's only about four miles from here, you know. Lordy, I'll bet I've tramped and rode a hundred square miles of brush country.”

It appeared that when Lance hadn't returned with the professor's horse the previous day Katherine and Jones had finally come to look for him. All three horses were as they had left them. Katherine had mounted and raced down the mountainside to catch
up with Oscar and the rest of the wagon train. While two men stayed with the wagons the rest had ascended the mountain to look for traces of Lance. That continued until darkness when the search was temporarily halted, and the party came on to the Three-Cross. Then the men had once more started out on a search for Lance that had lasted the rest of the night and was still continuing. Oscar, Jones and Katherine had finally returned to the Three-Cross to see if the rest had put in an appearance with news.

“I can't understand why”—Lance frowned—“some of them didn't find sign where I was standing when it happened.”

“Oscar did,” Katherine said. “So did Lanky Peters. They found ‘sign' where two men had waited on a shelf of rock above the horses. One of them had apparently leaped on you. We figured you were knocked unconscious and carried away. Footprints showed where they had taken you down through a narrow gully. Then, due to the scattered rock footing, the prints entirely disappeared. And so much time had already been lost——But, Lance, what did happen to you?”

Lance told his story while he smoked a cigarette. Katherine's eyes grew wider and wider while she listened. Jones grew more and more interested. When Lance had finished:

“No end remarkable,” Jones commented. “Amazing, what? This Temple of the Plumed Serpent—I know very little about archaeology, but jewels and gold often found in such places. Aztec, no doubt. I knew the ancient Aztec people worshiped a god named Quetzalcoatl—called Plumed Serpent——”

“That's what Horatio called him—“Quetzalcoatl,” Lance put in.

“Quite so, quite. Those overgrown tombstones—you mention—quite probably stelae—records, calendar, history of the race and so on. I should like to see them.”

“You won't have to go far,” Lance stated. “It's on Three-Cross property, the whole setup, temple and all, but so well hidden behind trees and brushy ridges that you'd never know it was there unless you stumbled on it by accident or found it as I did.”

Katherine put in, “Lance, that armlet Father sent me—it must have come from the feathered snake temple.”

“That's my idea.” Lance nodded.

Katherine smiled suddenly. “Lance, Uncle Uly was so upset over your disappearance yesterday that he clean forgot his precious cactus discovery.”

The professor flushed to the roots of his hair. “Ridiculous, eh?” Jones smiled wryly. “Another example—triumph of emotions over ratiocination. Must have—completely lost—head. However, we returned—today.
Echinopsis gregoriana
—safely in my possession—now.”

“We returned to the place where you disappeared,” Katherine explained. “Oscar wanted another look at the earth to see if he had overlooked anything. He hadn't—but I had to remind Uncle Uly to bring his precious plant this time.”

“By the time we returned here”—Jones changed the subject—“Oscar discovered—your horse—missing from corral. Thought perhaps you had come or someone in Muletero had stolen it. Went to Muletero to see——”

“It was Horatio who took the horse,” Lance said, “and he didn't take it to Muletero—thank heaven!”

Oscar arrived and was overjoyed to find Lance.
“By cripes!” Oscar said earnestly, “we were sure upset. I betcha I ate two pounds of lemon drops. You know, nothing like lemon drops to keep a man's courage up.”

Lance had started to tell his story when, one by one, the others of the expedition put in an appearance. They were gray with dust and fatigue, but sight of Lance quickly restored them to normal. Lance went over and over his story. Darkness fell, lamps were lighted, while the men sat talking in the big room of the ranch house. Lance suddenly remembered Fletcher and asked if they'd seen him.

“He's out looking for you,” Katherine said.

“Fletcher is?” Lance said unbelievingly.

Katherine nodded. “That's where he said he was going anyway. He was here last night when we arrived. We told him what had happened. He left almost immediately—alone. Said he knew this country and he might learn something. Before he left he advised us all not to leave the ranch. Fletcher said the Yaquentes are very dangerous hereabouts and to leave everything to him. He hasn't returned since.”

Lanky Peters growled, “I can't say I liked the way he advised us not to leave the ranch. It sounded to me like a command. Course, we didn't pay no attention. Just before I returned here I paid a visit to the Yaquente camp. Them Injuns is living in a canyon about a quarter of a mile east of Muletero. I rode through the camp. Nobody paid me any real attention, but I did get some dirty looks. A lot of them Yaquentes looked sort of hopped up, like they'd been eating mezcal buttons or something. You've heard of 'em doing that, haven't you?”

Lance said, “Yes, I've heard of it being done.” Oscar
and Jones exchanged glances. So far as Lanky and the rest of the employees knew this was a cactus-hunting expedition, nothing else.

Oscar frowned. “Something else I don't like: when I was coming through Muletero I saw Chiricahua Herrick just coming out of the local cantina. Probably his whole gang is here too.”

Lance asked quickly, “Did Herrick see you?”

Oscar nodded. “He said hello, in fact, genial as you please. He didn't seem none surprised at seeing me here either. I don't like the setup. Between Herrick and his crowd and the Yaquentes, it looks like we might be kept virtual prisoners here at the ranch.”

The men quickly exchanged looks. Lanky Peters and the other hands appeared puzzled. Lance said, “Lanky, you and the others might as well know it now. The main object of this expedition was to hunt cacti, I suppose, but there's two or three other things in the wind to be settled. There may be some fighting before we get through. If anybody feels the job might get too tough he's free to get his horse and leave now—and there 'll be no hard feelings.” Lance waited. None of the crew showed any signs of leaving. As a matter of fact they appeared to take a fresh interest in the proceedings. Lance went on, “I can't go into details now, but you'll get the whole story eventually. Isn't that right, Professor?”

Jones looked startled. “Bless me, I suppose it is. I'm interested, however, in nothing but cacti——”

Katherine interrupted by rising from her chair and saying, “I've simply got to go and clean up. When do we eat?”

Cal Braun nodded. “I've been thinking it's time I started to get supper. Give me a half-hour, Miss Gregory.”

“One minute,” Lance said. “If Fletcher does return here, and I have a feeling he may not, I'd just as soon no one told him what happened to me. You know, regarding that snake temple and so on. If he wants to know what happened tell him to see me. I'll tell him as much as I think he should know.”

“It's all right with me,” Lanky drawled. “I didn't like that Fletcher's looks from the first minute I saw him——”

Lance cut in, “There's some sort of queer setup around here. Maybe Fletcher hasn't a thing to do with it, but I'm not taking chances.”

Katherine left to go to her own room. Cal Braun departed for the kitchen. The rest sat around and smoked. No one said a great deal. Fletcher didn't put in an appearance. Lance wondered where he was, what he was doing. He felt quite sure Fletcher wasn't carrying on any intensive search of any sort.

Cal Braun finally announced that supper was ready. The meal was eaten, more or less, in silence. When it was concluded Lance went to the doorway and glanced outside. It was clear and starry. A wonderful night on which to point out to a certain girl the beauty of starlight on the mountains. Lance steeled himself against the thought and smiled at Katherine who may have had something of the sort in her own mind. Lance stood in the open doorway. Eventually he caught Oscar's eye and pointed to Lanky Peters. Oscar caught the idea and nodded. Lance passed through the doorway and outside.

He made his way down to the far end of the gallery and rolled and lighted a smoke, shielding the flame of the match between his cupped hands. Within a few moments Oscar put in an appearance. “What's on your mind, Lance?”

Lance asked if Lanky was coming. Oscar said he was.

Lance said, “Let's wait for him. There's no use me repeating what I have in mind.”

Lanky came strolling along the gallery, his lean frame bulking big against the light shining from windows of the ranch house. The three men squatted down against the adobe wall of the building at the far end of the gallery where the shadows were thickest.

“I didn't give out all the details,” Lance commenced, “when I was telling my story. That Yaquente—I call him Horatio—feels sort of grateful to me because I saved him from a beating at Herrick's hands a spell back. Well, Horatio has squared his account. If he hadn't I'd been the victim in a ceremony that's due to be held tonight——”

“Victim?” Oscar asked.

“There's a human sacrifice to be staged. I was to be it. Horatio was double-crossing his own people by aiding me to escape from that pit. Boys, he was plenty scared too.”

Lanky drawled, “You'll never realize, Lance, until you know the Yaquentes like I do, how much nerve it required for Horatio to do that. But that's a Yaquente for you. They're willing to die to repay a debt.”

Lance nodded. “That's the way I figured Horatio. Like I say, it was right hard carrying on a conversation with him, but I gathered he wasn't entirely sold on the setup. That beating Herrick started to give him that day has sort of destroyed Horatio's faith in things maybe. What it's about I don't know, but there's some white man working the Yaquentes up to do some deviltry. I don't know what the game is but I'm betting there's more than religious ceremonies involved——”