Across Texas. Ellis Edward Sylvester

but it is the right season of the year, and the ride will do you good.”

      “Do you advise us to go alone?” asked Herbert.

      “By no means; you must have companions who are familiar with the country, and they can be easily secured.”

      “How?”

      “There are hunters, miners, prospectors, and adventurers in San Antonio all the time, who have either just come from the wild regions beyond or are about to set out for them. They may be rough in their ways, but they are generally honest and trustworthy, and there will be no trouble in engaging them as companions.”

      “You have laid out the plan Herbert and I had fixed upon, but we felt doubts about being able to carry it out. We have informed ourselves, so far as we can, concerning the country over which we wish to ride, and the more we learned, the more we saw the need of having men who were familiar with it. How about the Indians?”

      “Well, you are liable to meet them, but I do not think there is much to be feared, as I have heard no disquieting rumors lately, though,” added the banker significantly, “I was shot at myself, within the present year, by a party of marauding Comanches, within six miles of San Antonio. When you get into New Mexico, you will be likely to find matters more lively.”

      “Can you help us in engaging the right parties?”

      “I think so; call around at my office to-morrow afternoon, when I am quite sure I will be able to put you on the track of the ones whom you ought to meet.”

      The lads assured their host that they would be glad to do so, and, declining his kind invitation to spend the night at his home, bade him good-evening and started on their return to the Menger House.

      CHAPTER III.

      IN SAN ANTONIO

      NICK and Herbert stopped on the Plaza to inspect a bear, which a lank Texan had fastened to a staple by a rope, and was waiting thus late at night for a purchaser. The moment the boys passed, the owner began urging them to buy, offering the brute for fifteen dollars, and dwelling with much eloquence on the great bargain it was for anyone.

      Our friends, however, had no use for any animals of that species, and, taking care to keep beyond reach of the beast, who showed a desire for closer acquaintance, they sauntered toward the hotel.

      Just before reaching it, someone touched Nick’s arm in such a timid manner that he turned, wondering what it could mean.

      A lad about twelve years of age, ragged and the picture of distress, asked in a tremulous voice:

      “Please, sir, you’re from the North, aint you?”

      “Yes,” replied Nick; “is your home there?”

      “Yes, sir,” said the lad, swallowing a lump in his throat, “and I would give the world, if I had it, if I was back there again.”

      “How is it you’re here?”

      “Me and Dick Harrison run away from home; we lived in Philadelphia, and we haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday.”

      “Where is Dick?”

      “He’s off yonder, on the other side of the Plaza; he’s just dead broke up, and says he won’t try nothin’ more, but is goin’ to lay down and die.”

      “I don’t believe anyone has ever died of starvation in San Antonio; can’t you get work?”

      “We have been trying for two weeks; we got a job or two that fetched us a little to eat, but we can’t do nothin’ more.”

      “Take us over to where Dick is,” said Herbert, whose heart was touched, “and let us see him.”

      “Come on,” said the boy, so cheerfully that Nick and his friend were satisfied he was telling the truth. On the way across the Plaza, they questioned Fred Beekman, as he gave his name, still further.

      “What made you run away from home, Fred?”

      “Me and Dick started out to kill Injins and grizzly bears.”

      “How did you make out,” asked Herbert, who recalled that it was not so long since he had indulged in similar ambitious ideas.

      “We haven’t killed any yet,” replied Fred, in such a doleful voice that the others could not help smiling.

      “How did you get the money to come to Texas?”

      “Dick and me stole it from our folks; we bought rifles and pistols, but when we got to Texarkana we was took up and the guns took away from us; we managed to sneak off, and had enough money left to come to Santone; here it give out, and we’ve had it hard since.”

      “Had you pleasant homes?” asked Nick.

      This question set Fred to crying. His fingers were in his eyes, and he stumbled along for several paces before he could answer:

      “Nobody ever had better homes, but we got it into our heads that it would be nice to shoot grizzly bears and Injins, and here we are. If we only had enough money to keep us from starvin’ we could walk home like reg’lar tramps.”

      “You are a good many miles from Philadelphia,” said Nick. “If you could get there, would you go straight home, or would you start off on some other wild-goose chase like this?”

      “Oh, if I could see father and mother and my brother and two sisters, I would work and go to school and do anything; I never knowed how good a home I had till I run away, and Dick feels the same way.”

      A few minutes later they reached the spot where Dick had been left, but he was nowhere in sight. Fred looked around in wonder, and then became frightened.

      “I’ll bet he’s gone and drownded hisself,” he said, in an awed whisper, “for he felt ’nough like it.”

      “Boys like him don’t drown themselves,” replied Nick, who began to distrust the truthfulness of the lad; “if you want us to give you any help you must find Dick and bring him – ”

      “There he is!” broke in Fred, pointing to a figure lurking among the shadows some distance off, as if afraid to venture closer. “Here, Dick, come here! you needn’t be scart, they won’t hurt you!”

      Seeing the lad approaching, Nick said: “Now, Fred, I don’t want you to speak a word till I get through with Dick.”

      With considerable hesitation Dick ventured nearer, and Nick immediately took him in hand. After much questioning, he became convinced that the story told by the two was true. They were equally ragged and wretched looking, and, despite their coarse language, gave evidence of having belonged to good families.

      Nick and Herbert provided them with an excellent supper. They were as ravenous as wild animals, and left no doubt that they were half famishing. Then, having made sure that they had a place to sleep during the night, Nick told them to call at the hotel in the morning, and he would see whether he and his friend could do anything for them.

      During the interview, Nick managed to get the addresses of their parents in Philadelphia, without either suspecting his purpose. On reaching the Menger, he at once telegraphed to each father, asking whether a son whose name he gave was missing. He hardly doubted their story, but it was well that he took means to make sure, before acting upon that belief.

      In the course of the evening, a reply came to each message, saying that the boys had been missing for six weeks, begging Nick to send both home without delay, and pledging that the expense would be paid by the senders of the telegrams, or, if desired, funds would be telegraphed. Nick notified the parents that the boys would start northward in the morning, and a statement of the money expended would be forwarded by mail.

      When Fred and Dick presented themselves to Nick and Herbert, and were told that word had been received from their relatives, who would be delighted to receive them, they could hardly believe it, but were finally satisfied that there was no deception about it.

      Herbert and Nick took the boys to a clothing establishment, where they were provided with comfortable outfits, a through ticket was furnished to each, enough money given