“I should like it,” confessed Dick; “but there’s nothing of the sort for me. It’s school for me now.” “I don’t take much to greasers. They are a-plenty treacherous. Now there’s that smooth, smiling chap, Del Norte—he don’t hit me at all fine. He’s too slick and oily for my fancy. Oh, we see lots of them down on the Rio Pecos. You know we’re some near the Mexican border. I have had dealings with the varmints, and you can never depend on them to any great extent. They are not all bad, but a Texan never takes stock in any of them. He can’t afford to. Where you find one that’s white all the way through, you find a hundred who will eat your bread and stick you between the shoulder blades. I reckon old Del Norte is one of those.” “I myself don’t like Del Norte,” confessed Dick. “I have seen him watching Inza in a way I didn’t fancy. He had better be careful or Frank will teach him a lesson if he gets too forward in that direction.” “What is he doing on the _Sachem_, anyhow? I heard him talking yesterday with Mr. Crossgrove about mines and a railroad and one thing and another. I believe he’s a promoter.” “I think he’s a schemer of some sort. There’s not much doubt about that.” Having reached the foot of the mountain and the main road, the boys turned toward town and Dick began singing “Fair Fardale.” Brad joined in, and the rocks and cliffs of the mountainside reverberated with the melody of the beautiful song. At length they passed the cemetery at the foot of the mountain and came into the village. “How will we get off to the yacht, partner?” asked the Texan. “Oh, we can find some one to set us off, I think,” said Dick. “If not we will signal, and one of the sailors will row ashore for us.” Arriving at Fishmarket Wharf, they were just in time to see a boy row in with a small boat. “Hello!” said Dick. “Do you want to make fifty cents?” “Sure thing,” was the reply. “Just made a dollar, and fifty more will keep it from being lonesome. What can I do?” “Set us off to the yacht _Sachem_.” “Hey?” exclaimed the boy, with a slight show of surprise. “Are you in a great hurry?” “No.” “Don’t want me to rip things in getting you on board, I suppose?” “No; you may take your time. We have the whole night before us.” “Well, I didn’t know,” muttered the boy, a touch of disappointment in his voice. “I thought mebbe you was in the same hurry t’other chap was. He gave me a dollar to hump myself and put him off to the _Sachem_.” “To the _Sachem_?” questioned Dick. “Sure thing.” “I wonder who it was.” “Didn’t ask his name,” said the boy; “but I guess he just got through some sort of an accident. His hat was gone and his clothes were all torn, and his cheek was scratched and cut. Is there a doctor on the _Sachem_? Mebbe he wanted the doctor to patch him up.” “This is some interesting, pard,” said Buckhart, as they settled in the boat and the boy pushed off. “I wonder who the chap was.”