The Broncho Rider Boys with Funston at Vera Cruz | Page 7

stooped down as
though to pick up a stone, which enabled him to look backward
between his knees.
He caught a movement in the grass at the edge of the right of way.
"I thought so," he muttered. "Now to find out who it is, and what he

wants."
He picked up a small stone and threw it at a tall cactus which grew near
the track some distance ahead.
"Good shot," he said aloud as the stone hit the stalk. "I wonder if I
could do it again."
He stooped down and picked up another stone, taking a good look
backward from his stooping position. There was not a movement to
indicate the presence of a living thing.
"This is getting on my nerves," the boy mused as he picked up several
small stones and again walked forward. "I don't mind being followed
by a white man, but I'm a whole lot leary of these greasers. They're bad
enough when they're friendly."
Then aloud, as he threw a couple of stones: "I'll never get anywhere if I
don't make better time than this. I'll just sprint a few."
Suiting the action to the word, he started on a run.
Almost immediately he was aware of a soft pat-pat in his rear. He had
heard a similar sound in the wilds of Wyoming and he recognized it at
once.
It was the footfall of a four-legged animal.
"So!" he ejaculated. "I wonder what it is. If there were wolves down
here I would say it was a wolf, but I don't believe there are." Then a
minute later, "Well, whatever it is, I'm going to find out."
He whipped out his automatic and turned suddenly.
As before, not a single living thing was in sight, only in the grass a
movement as before.
Without a moment's aim, he fired a single shot at the spot. It was an act
born of fear and Billie knew it, but for the life of him he could not have

done otherwise, so nervous had he become.
The report was followed by a cry of pain and an instant later there came
running directly toward him out of the tall grass a figure so weird that
Billie stood as one paralysed.
The figure was that of a man not more than two feet high, with long
arms and a head of diminutive size. While it stood upright at times, at
others it came forward on all fours. To Billie it seemed a cross between
a man and a monkey.
Gathering his wits in an instant, Billie would have fired again--in fact,
raised his revolver to do so, when the strange creature fell to its knees
and raised its hands in supplication.
"By George!" exclaimed the lad as he stood with lowered weapon.
"What kind of a thing is this? I wonder if it can talk?"
Then as he took a step toward it: "I'm not going to hurt you. Come
here."
The creature arose to its feet and came slowly toward him. As it did so
Billie noticed that blood was running from a wound in its scalp.
"Poor thing," he said. "That must have been where the bullet hit him. It
was a close shave."
"Can you talk?" he finally asked.
The strange creature turned its head to one side and eyed him closely,
but no sound came from its lips.
"It must be an ape of some sort," mused the boy; "but how did it
become so tame?"
He slowly returned his automatic to its holster, thinking in the
meantime how he could dress the creature's wound; but no sooner had
his hand left his weapon than the ape sprang at him with the utmost
fury. It landed on his shoulder, wound its legs about his neck, and with

its long arms made a wild grab for the revolver.
Then began a strange and terrible struggle for the possession of the
weapon. Even as he fought the beast, Billie realized that in some
manner the ape had learned to fear firearms, but whether it had ever
learned to use them he could not venture a guess. He felt certain if he
could draw the weapon and point it at the ape, it would at once cringe
in fear. What might happen if the ape should get possession of it, he
could only imagine.
For a youth of eighteen, there were few whom Billie met that were his
match physically, but this diminutive man-animal held him as in a vise.
Billie exerted every ounce of his strength to free himself from the
terrible hold, while the ape fought even more fiercely to retain its grip
and to gain possession of the weapon.
It was a weird and fearful struggle waged there in the stillness of the