Andy had just managed to get the cooking fire ready, and was asking Tubby to bring him the frying-pan, because they expected to have a rasher of bacon for breakfast, to go with the hardtack and coffee. At that moment the horse of the guide, staked near by, began to snort and prance, as well as give other indications of excitement. Lopez had been in the act of rolling up his blanket into a small bundle that could easily be carried behind his saddle. He seemed to know instinctively what these riotous actions on the part of his mount stood for; because, with an exclamation of alarm, he jumped for his gun that rested against a tree trunk.
Rob did the same, ditto Merritt; while Andy continued to kneel there in front of his little fire as though frozen stiff. As for Tubby, he dropped the frying-pan in a panic and snatched up the camp hatchet.
Rob had already caught the sound of horses' hoofs near by; and even as he turned his eyes in the quarter from which the sounds seemed to spring, there came around the end of the thicket a couple of horsemen, who, on discovering the camp with its surprised inmates, drew their mounts in abruptly and sat there in their saddles staring hard.
Rob could see that the men were garbed in a sort of dirty white uniform; and from this he quickly judged that they must be a couple of Salazar's cavalrymen, sent out to burn bridges and demoralize the railroad completely between Chihuahua and Juarez. As Federals were bound to look upon all Americans as their bitter enemies, on account of the attitude taken by the Washington authorities concerning President Huerta, the patrol leader guessed that they were in for another experience.
CHAPTER XVI.
IN THE ENEMY'S COUNTRY.
"Don't shoot!" Rob called out hastily, fearing that Lopez might think it his duty, as the guardian of the little party, to open fire on the Regulars; and this was not in accordance with the designs of the Boy Scouts, who were bound to exhaust every peaceful effort before proceeding to any violence.
Andy had by this time come to his senses, and started to crawl over to where he had stacked his rifle. Shooting at coyotes was one thing, however, and being compelled to fire upon human beings quite another; and the boy looked pretty white "about the gills," as Merritt afterward put it, as he clutched his weapon. But he had also heard what the patrol leader said, and did not make any hostile demonstration, beyond pulling back the hammer of his gun with his trembling thumb.
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 senor," 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 crowbar 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.