“Can you get your hands free?” Pete asked.
“Not without some help from Houdini,” Bob said. “How about you?”
“No way.”
“Where the heck is Jupe?” Pete asked.
“He’ll be here,” Bob promised. “You know that guy always has a scheme up his sleeve. He’ll spot Dusty before that maniac can get close enough to shoot. Besides, Jupe’s got Blondie. She can gallop a lot faster than Dusty can run.”
“Dusty’s not our only headache,” Pete said, straining at the cord again. “You smell anything?”
Bob sniffed. “Rotten eggs?”
“Something weird’s going on outside,” Pete said. “When I was just out there, I couldn’t see Jupe. I couldn’t see anything. The whole mountain’s as black as midnight. The air smells like. yeah, rotten eggs. And this huge cloud of smoke’s spreading around.”
Bob thought fast. “We saw smoke from this mountain before, remember? And that’s not eggs,” he cried, “it’s sulfur! Like from a volcano. Holy smoke! We’re sitting under a live volcano!”
Pete’s eyes bulged. “We’ve got this cave to protect us. But Jupe’s out there in the open!”
16
Rivers of Death
“Get down,” Jupe whispered urgently. “quick. Get down.”
Mercedes was staring at the dark smoke that spurted from the mouth of the volcano and blanketed the mountain like fog. Jupe grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down behind a boulder.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Dusty,” he whispered. “Keep your voice low.”
Some gritty ash fell from the sky, but the wind was blowing the dark smoke away. A chemical smell hung in the air. Cautiously raising his head, Jupe watched the rancher. He was less than half a mile away, striding along the trail toward them. He wasn’t alone.
Brit was walking a few steps ahead of him. The young guy’s hands were clasped behind his neck. Dusty had his rifle aimed at his back.
“Brit.” Mercedes drew in her breath sharply. Jupe had to grab her arm again to stop her from rushing forward to help her son.
“Don’t,” he warned her softly. “It won’t help Brit if Dusty shoots you.”
Any second now, Jupe thought, Dusty would see the two burros. He would have seen them before if he hadn’t been watching Brit so closely.
Mercedes was sliding the rifle toward her. “I’ll try to get Dusty in the arm,” she whispered. She fitted the stock against her shoulder. She eased the barrel around the edge of the boulder. For a second she had a clear line of fire at the rancher.
She took careful aim. Her finger tightened on the trigger. She squeezed it.
Jupe waited for the sound of the shot. It never came. Mercedes was tugging and tugging at the trigger. She couldn’t move it.
“The safety catch!” Jupe whispered. “The safety’s on!”
Hastily Mercedes slipped it off. She aimed again. But now she was too late. Dusty had seen the two burros. He jumped forward and seized Brit from behind, shielding himself with Brit’s body.
Mercedes lowered the rifle. She swore softly in Spanish. Dusty pulled the knife from his belt. He pressed it against Brit’s back. Pushing Brit in front of him, he moved forward again.
Jupe snatched the strap of the walkie-talkie from Mercedes’ shoulder. He flipped the switch to send.
“Ascención!” He held his lips close to the mike. “Ascención. Can you hear me?” he demanded in Spanish. “Ascención. Come in. Over.”
He switched to receive. Silence. Jupe kept trying for another minute. Dusty was less than a hundred yards away now. He was still moving steadily forward, prodding Brit with the knife.
Jupe put the walkie-talkie down. He touched Mercedes’ hand.
“Put on your wig.”
She took it from her skirt pocket and quickly slipped it onto her head.
Dusty came to a stop ten yards away.
“Come out, Mercedes,” he called in Spanish. “Come out where I can see you.”
She didn’t move.
“Don’t be scared,” Dusty went on, still in Spanish.
“I know you’re there. My friend here told me all about you. I know you followed us up here. And I bet you’ve got my rifle. Okay. No sweat. Maybe we can make a deal.”
Mercedes stood up, holding the rifle in both hands.
Jupe stayed low. The rancher had somehow managed to get the jump on Pete and Bob. Probably with that knife he was holding against Brit’s back. But as long as Dusty didn’t know he was there, Jupe had the advantage of surprise. He might still manage to tackle the rancher.
Mercedes had her finger close to the trigger of her rifle.
“I know who you are too,” she said in Spanish. “Senor Rice. And you are after Pancho Villa’s silver.”
“Right, senora,” Dusty admitted. “And so are you.”
“Okay.” Mercedes nodded. “But I know where it’s hidden. And you don’t.”
“Sure I do.” Dusty moved closer. “This young American and his father found it. And now he’s taking me there.”
“If he thinks he knows where it is, he’s wrong,” Mercedes said. “He only knows where it was. Where I found it yesterday. But I used my burro to move it to another hiding place. Put your knife away. Then maybe, as you say, we can make a deal.”
“Okay.” Dusty slipped the knife back into his belt. “Now we’re even. We’ve both got a rifle. But if you want to get that silver away from here, you’re going to need my help.” He glanced up at the mountaintop. “That thing’s going to blow any minute now.”
He was still moving slowly forward, holding Brit as a shield between himself and Mercedes.
“Stop where you are!” Mercedes shouted at him in Spanish. But she had realized the danger too late.
Dusty was staring at her. He sneered.
“You!” he spit out in English. “You fooled me for a minute in that Mexican wig. But I’d know those blue eyes anywhere, Grace.”
Mercedes had forgotten to replace her contact lenses.
And then things happened so fast they all seemed to happen at once.
Mercedes started to raise her rifle. Dusty stepped quickly aside. He aimed at Mercedes.
Jupe heard a shot.
The rifle leaped out of Dusty’s hand. It landed on the rocks five yards away. Dusty clasped his hand in pain.
Jupe jumped forward and snatched the knife out of Dusty’s belt.
He heard the sound of clattering hooves. Ascención galloped up. He was holding a Colt.45 in his hand. He leveled it at Dusty.
“Next time I won’t aim for your rifle. I’ll aim for your heart,” he said in Spanish. He glanced at Mercedes. She had her rifle pointed at Dusty. This time the safety catch was off.
“No,” Ascención told her sharply. “Let him go. If you kill him, we won’t have time to bury him. And that’s a sin. To leave a body to the vultures.”
He turned back to Dusty. “Get out of here!” he shouted at him. “Go find your silver.”
Dusty was still clutching his hand. He hesitated, his face dark with hatred.
“Go,” Ascención ordered him again. “Go to Pancho Villa’s cave. You won’t need Brit to take you there. You’ll find enough tracks leading to it.”
The rancher faced Ascención for a second. Jupe could see murder in his eyes. But Dusty was helpless. The breech of his rifle had been shattered when the Mexican shot it out of his hands. Jupe was holding his knife. He turned and set off along the trail that led to Villa’s cave.
Mercedes and Brit hugged each other. Ascención dismounted. “That stupid walkie-talkie,” he said. “I dropped it last night and I can’t get a sound out of it.”
Jupe looked up to the top of the mountain. Another plume of black smoke was rising.
“We’ve got to get Pete and Bob,” he said. “They must still be in Brit’s cave. We’ve got to get them out of there.”
Ascención put two fingers into his mouth and gave a piercing whistle. A moment later another horse came cantering toward him. Jupe recognized it as Dusty’s.