They all enjoyed that first day's ride. Wampus did
not drive fast,
for there were places where he couldn't; yet by one
o'clock they had
reached Laguna, sixty miles from their starting
point. There was an
excellent railway hotel here, so they decided to
spend the rest of the
day and the night at Laguna and proceed early the
next morning.
The big car was an object of much curiosity to the
natives, and during
the afternoon Wampus was the center of attraction.
Myrtle had stood
the ride remarkably well, and Uncle John noticed
that her eyes were
brighter and a shade of color had already crept into
her pale cheeks.
Having risen early all three of the girls took a nap
during the
afternoon, as did Mr. Merrick. The Major gossiped
with the station
agent, the most important individual in town, and
gleaned sundry
information that made him look rather glum.
"I don't say the road's exactly dangerous, mind
you," added the man,
"but these greasers and Injuns get mischievous, at
times, harmless
as they look. All I'm advisin' is that you keep a
sharp eye on 'em."
Finding Wampus cleaning his car, while a circle of
silent, attentive
inhabitants looked on, the Major said to him in a
low voice: "Have you
a revolver?"
Wampus shook his head.
"Never carry him," he replied. "All gun he make
trouble. Sometime he
shoot wrong man. Don't like gun. Why should I? I am
Wampus!"
The Major entered the hotel frowning.
"That fellow," he muttered, "is a natural-born
coward, and we needn't
expect help from him if trouble comes."
No trouble came that night, however, and in the
early morning, while
the sky was still reddened by the rising sun, they
were off again,
following more closely now the railroad, as rocky
defiles began to
loom up before them.
By the zigzag course they were obliged to take it
was ninety miles to
Gallup, and this they easily made, despite the
growing steepness of
the mountain road. Here was the famous Continental
Divide, and the
State of Arizona lay just beyond. The Continental
Divide is the ridge
that separates the streams tributary to the Atlantic
ocean from those
tributary to the Pacific, so that after crossing it
one might well
feel that at last the East was left behind and the
great West with its
romance now faced him.
They came to the little town in time to see the
gorgeous sunset from
this, the highest point of the Rockies, and
especially to Myrtle, who
had traveled so little, was the sight impressive and
awe inspiring.
There was a small but fairly good hotel in the
place, and after supper
Patsy and Beth went out for a stroll, being much
interested in the
dark-skinned Mexicans and still darker Indians who
constituted far
the larger part of the population. The party had
everywhere met with
respect from these people, who, although curious,
were silent and
well-behaved; so Uncle John and the Major, deep in a
political
argument on the hotel porch, had no thought of
danger when they saw
the two girls start away arm in arm.
The sky was still aglow, although the sun had set,
and in the subdued
light the coarse adobe huts and rickety frame
dwellings were endowed
with a picturesque appearance they did not really
possess. Beth and
Patsy came to the end of the main street rather
suddenly, and stood a
moment looking at the shadows cast by the rocky
cliffs near by. Some
of the peaks had snow upon them, and there was a
chill in the air, now
that the sun had withdrawn its warmth. The girls
turned presently and
took another route that might bring them quicker to
the hotel, but had
only proceeded a short way when in passing a rather
solitary adobe
structure a man stepped from the shadow of the wall
and confronted
them. He wore a red flannel shirt and a broad
sombrero, the latter
scarcely covering his dark, evil features.
The cousins stopped short. Then Beth whispered:
"Let's go the other
way." But as they were about to turn the Mexican
drew a revolver and
said in harsh, uneven English: "You halt. Keep
a-still, or I shoot."
"What do you want?" asked Beth, quietly.
"Money. All you got. Jew'lry--all you got. Give 'm
quick, or I shoot!"
As they stood hesitating a sound of footsteps was
heard and someone
approached quickly from behind them. Patsy looked
hurriedly around
and saw Wampus. He was walking with his thin little
form bent and his
hands deep in his trousers pockets. Incidentally
Wampus was smoking
the stub of a cigar, as was his custom when off
duty.
The Mexican saw him, but marking his small size and
mild manner did
not flinch from his position. With one revolver
still leveled at the
girls he drew another from a hip pocket and turned
it upon Wampus.
"You stop--halt!" he exclaimed fiercely.
Wampus did not halt. His eyes fixed upon the
bandit's ugly features,
still puffing his cigar and with hands in his
pockets he walked
deliberately past Patsy and Beth and straight up to
the muzzles of the
revolvers.
"Stop!" cried the Mexican; and again: "Stop!"
Wampus stopped when one revolver nearly touched his
nose and another
covered his body. Slowly he drew one hand from his
pocket and grasped
the barrel of the nearest weapon.
"Let him go," he said, not raising his voice. The
man stared into the
little chauffeur's eyes and released his hold of the
revolver. Wampus
looked at it, grunted, and put it in his pocket.
"Now the other gun," he said.
The fellow drew back and half turned, as if to
escape.
"No, no!" said Wampus, as if annoyed. "You give me
gun. See--I am
Wampus!"
Sheepishly enough the Mexican surrendered the other
weapon.
"Now turn aroun' an' go to hotel," commanded the
chauffeur.
The man obeyed. Wampus turned to the girls, who were
now not only
relieved but on the verge of laughter and said
deprecatingly:
"Do not be scare, for poor man he make no harm. He
jus' try a
goozle--no dare shoot here in town. Then come; I go
back with you."
Silently they accompanied him along the lane, the
Mexican keeping in
front and looking around from time to time to see if
they followed.
A short distance from the hotel Wampus gave a queer
whistle which
brought the bandit cringing to his side. Without ado
he handed the
fellow his two revolvers and said calmly: "Go
'long."
The Mexican "went along" briskly and the dusk soon
swallowed him up.
"Thank you, Wampus," said Patsy, gratefully; "you've
saved us from a
dreadful experience."
"Oh, that!" snapping his fingers scornfully. "He not
a good bad-man,
for he too much afraid. I have no gun, for I do not
like gun. Still,
if I not come, he make you give him money an'
trinkets."
"You were very kind," replied Beth, "and I thank you
as much as Patsy
does. If you had not arrived just when you did I
might have killed the
man."
"You?" inquired Wampus, doubtingly.
"Yes." She showed him a small pearl-handled revolver
which she carried
in the pocket of her jacket. "I can shoot, Wampus."
The little chauffeur grinned; then looked grave and
shook his head.
"It make funny world, these day," said he. "One time
girl from city
would scream to see a gun; now she carry him in
pocket an' can shoot!
Ver' fine; ver' fine. But I like me old style girl
who make scream.
Then a man not feel foolish when he try protect
her."
Patsy laughed merrily; but Beth saw he was offended
and hastened to
say:
"I am very grateful to you, Wampus, and I know you
are a brave and
true man. I shall expect you to protect me at all
times, for I really
don't wish to shoot anyone, although I think it best
to carry a
revolver. Always after this, before I am tempted to
fire, I shall look
to see if you are not near me."
"All right," he said more cheerfully. "I am Wampus.
I will be there,
Miss 'Lizbeth."
