RANSOM
Felipe rode his black-and-white pinto pony toward town. With one hand, he gripped the reins; with the other, he clutched a basket of eggs. He was taking them to the tavern in Los Angeles to sell to Victoria Escalante, as he did every week. The mid-morning sun hid behind a clump of white clouds.
Felipe worked for the de la Vegas as a houseboy. They were the richest, most influential family in southern California. A young mute orphan who used to be deaf, Felipe had lived with them and worked for them since he had lost his parents at seven years of age.
As Felipe reached a wall of stone that stretched from horizon to horizon, he guided his pony toward a gap looming ahead. Before he reached the gap, he froze. He yanked on the reins; the pony halted.
A pile of logs blocked the gap. What are these logs doing there? Felipe wondered, annoyed. Who could have put them there? And why?
He dismounted and patted his pony's neck. He wiped the sweat off his face with his soft cotton handkerchief. Then he marched toward the logs and grasped the first one. Before he could lift it, a hand grabbed his neck from behind.
Felipe pried his neck loose and whirled around. He froze, then backed away. A man wearing a tan-colored handkerchief tied around his mouth stood before the boy, aiming a pistol at Felipe's heart.
At that moment, two more masked men appeared on the rocky wall and jumped down. They yanked pistols out of their holsters and bore down on Felipe.
"Don't move, muchacho!" one of them warned. "You're comin' with us!"
Felipe couldn't believe his eyes. This couldn't be happening! Why would these bandidos want to kidnap him?
The basket of eggs slipped out of his right hand as he raised both hands. A squishy sound below told him the eggs had been smashed; he didn't look to see. The first bandit jerked a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and attached it to the pinto pony's saddle. He slapped the pony's rump; it trotted away.
"Shouldn't take the de la Vegas long to get that ransom note," he said.
"No." Another grinned. "Let's go." He grabbed Felipe's arm.
Ransom! Felipe thought, as the bandit marched him toward his own palomino. They're holding me for ransom! How long will it be till I'm free? Where are they going to take me?
ZZZZZ
Don Diego and his father, Don Alejandro, sat in the library of their elegant hacienda, reading. Diego was reading Legend of the Cid, a medieval epic poem about a legendary Spanish hero, and his father was reading Cervante's Don Quixote de la Mancha. Earlier, they had played a game of chess, and Diego had won.
Suddenly, a servant raced into the library. "Patrón, Felipe's horse has returned, but Felipe wasn't on it!"
The de la Vegas leaped to their feet. "You have any idea where he is?" Don Diego took a deep breath as he spoke.
The servant shook his head. "Miguel found this note on the saddle. He sent it to us." Miguel was the de la Vegas' vaqueros' foreman.
"Gracias, Manuel." Don Alejandro took the note. "You may go, now." Manuel left.
Don Alejandro unfolded the note with shaking hands. As he read it, he pursed his lips together. "Felipe's been kidnapped, Diego," he told his son, who froze at the sound of the unwelcome news. "He's being held for ransom."
"How--how much?" Diego swallowed hard; sweat broke out on his palms.
"15,000 pesos." Don Alejandro glared at the note. "And we have till noon, tomorrow, to pay it, or they'll kill him."
Don Diego shook his head. For a moment, he just stood there, trying to process what he had just heard his father say. "Father, I--I just don't understand. Why would bandidos kidnap a servant?"
Don Alejandro rubbed his forehead. "We're one of the richest families in the territory, son, if not the richest. Such wealth as ours is a temptation to any bandit. But neither of us has a wife or children to kidnap, Diego, and kidnapping you or me would be quite risky; we can fight back. That leaves only the servants."
Don Diego thought about that for a moment, then nodded. "You're right, Father. Furthermore, Felipe is just a boy, and it is well known that you and I love him as if he were our own. That puts him at risk, doesn't it?" He winced at the thought. "I'll tell you, Father, Felipe is very brave. But even his courage will be tested by this ordeal."
Don Alejandro sighed. "We'll save him, Diego, don't worry."
Don Diego paused to think again. "Where do we have to take the money?"
"This note doesn't say." Don Alejandro gazed down at it. "It just says to gather the money now, and we'll get further instructions tomorrow."
He folded the note and gave it to Diego. "Here. I'll go to the bank and withdraw the money. You stay here in case we get any word." He strode out of the room, his quality leather boots clumping on the gleaming marble floor.
After his father had left, Diego read the note slowly and carefully, hoping he would find a clue to Felipe's whereabouts in the note itself. Unable to find one, he pressed on the secret lever above the fireplace in the back of the library; a hidden door swung open in the fireplace itself. Diego stepped through the entrance and entered Zorro's cave.
Zorro will rescue you, Felipe, he thought. Never fear! He sighed. Out loud, he told himself, "My father is a brave man, a man of action. He'll save Felipe if he possibly can. But Zorro will act, too, just to make sure."
Felipe had been kidnapped twice before, in recent months. The first time, a couple had kidnapped him, intending to use him in a bank robbery in Mexico City. More recently, a gang of pirates had kidnapped Felipe, Victoria, and three peasant men because they wanted some "volunteers" to help them carry to their ship a buried treasure they were seeking. While attempting to rescue Felipe from the pirates, Don Diego had been kidnapped in his place. But never had Felipe been kidnapped for ransom, like a caballero.
Until now.
Minutes after entering the cave, Diego, dressed in his black costume, rode as Zorro on the back of his mighty black stallion, Toronado. Zorro's Toledo-steel blade dangled in its sheath at his side. Zorro raced toward town on the path Felipe had taken, until he came to the gap in the stone wall. Zorro dismounted to examine the scene.
Felipe's eggs, he thought. The ones he was going to sell to Victoria. He examined the ground. Footprints. Three sets of hoof prints. They lead north.
Zorro climbed back on Toronado. For several miles, as the blazing sun beat down on his head, he followed the tracks, praying that they would lead him to the bandidos' hideout. To his disappointment, they ended at the edge of a rocky plateau that stretched into the horizon.
Zorro slumped his shoulders; he felt so discouraged. It would be impossible to follow the trail any further; the bandits could have taken Felipe anywhere from that spot. He rode back to the cave. Until the bandits sent his father further instructions, there was nothing more he could do.
Don Alejandro arrived shortly after Diego did. "The money is in the wagon, Diego; Miguel is guarding it. I told him about the kidnapping." He entered the drawing room and dropped his riding gloves on the polished mahogany desk.
"Good." Don Diego nodded. "What now?"
Don Alejandro leaned against the desk and sighed. "Nothing. We just wait." He clenched his fists. "Sometimes, son, I just hate waiting!"
Diego sank down onto the satin-brocade couch and sighed. Right now, so do I! He silently prayed for Felipe's safety.
ZZZZZ
The next morning, in a one-room adobe hut 15 miles north of Los Angeles, the bandits sat around a rough wooden table on benches, eating breakfast. On the right side of the hut, the two bunk beds lay rumpled, and a straw mat leaned against the wall. On the left side of the hut, Felipe sat in a chair, hands tied behind his back, ankles tied to the chair legs. He had been sitting tied in that posture since his arrival the previous morning.
As Felipe sat watching the bandits eat, he winced as pain shot through the back of his neck. I guess I pulled a muscle, he thought. The boy rolled his head around, trying to ease the crick in his neck. The ropes dug into his wrists, cutting off the circulation; his hands felt numb, as a result. The only light came through the open doorway.
Don Diego will do everything in his power to rescue me, he reminded himself. He will ride as Zorro, I know. He's such a great tracker.
Felipe sighed. It's so dark in here; it's hard to see! What's going to happen to me? Will they let me go after they get the money, or will they--! Felipe chopped off the sentence before he completed that horrifying thought. He shivered.
His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before. His throat felt parched. So far, the bandits had given him no food or water. I hope they're not going to starve me to death! Right now, I'm so thirsty, I could drink a barrel of water!
One of the bandits rose to his feet. "Gotta take the new instructions to the de la Vega hacienda."
"And how'll you do that without gettin' captured?" One of the bandits, who had a long scar on his face, scowled at the first man.
"There are ways. Now, give me that note!"
The third man yanked a folded note out of his pocket and threw it at the first man. Clutching the note, the first man strode out the door without another word.
"It'll be noon in another few hours." The scar-faced man scooted the bench backwards and stood up.
"Si. The de la Vegas will leave the money, Juan; don't worry."
"I am worried. We can't let the boy live; he's seen our faces. He could get us arrested. But if we kill him, there'll be a price on our heads so big, every bounty hunter in the territory will be lookin' for us. The de la Vegas'll see to that." He shook his head. "Somehow, we've got to find a way to get away clean."
"I know. Let's worry about that when Sergio gets back, shall we?"
Felipe lowered his face so they wouldn't see the fear he felt. The bandidos were going to kill him! Taking a deep breath, he silently prayed for rescue.
Meanwhile, back at the de la Vega hacienda, Don Alejandro paced the Oriental carpet spanning the drawing room. His son leaned against the desk, rubbing its smooth, polished mahogany wood with his index finger.
How much longer? Diego wondered. The note said we only have till noon.
Out loud, he said, "You know, Father, it's been twenty-four hours since we received the ransom note. We only have a few more hours."
Don Alejandro nodded wearily and rubbed his forehead. "They'll surely send us word, soon. Just be patient, son."
"A headache, Father?" Don Alejandro nodded.
A knock sounded on the door; Don Diego strode into the spacious entry to open it. A little black-haired boy, wearing an orange poncho and a straw sombrero, stood on the porch.
"Hola, Pepito," Diego greeted the child.
"Hola, Don Diego," the boy said. He handed Don Diego a folded note. "A man said to give this to you."
Don Diego unfolded the note. "Where did you meet this hombre?" Pepito pointed toward the north. Diego nodded.
Don Alejandro approached the entrance as Diego read the note. The elder de la Vega then took a peso from his pocket and handed it to Pepito. "Here, amigo. This is for your trouble."
"Gracias, señor." Pepito left.
The two gentlemen returned to the drawing room. "The kidnappers want us to deliver the ransom money to the ridge near Red Rock Canyon at noon," Don Diego said.
"Then I'd better be going. While I'm gone, Diego, send for the soldiers. Since Sergeant Mendoza is acting alcalde at present, I know he'll help us."
"Yes." Diego watched his father leave, then sent Manuel to town to tell Sergeant Mendoza. Don Diego then raced to the secret entrance in the library.
Minutes later, Don Diego rode as Zorro to the spot where he suspected the bandido had hired the boy to act as his messenger. Sure enough, he found the footprints of a man, the smaller prints of a child, and a horse's hoofprints.
Hold on, Felipe, Zorro thought. He sat straight and tall in the saddle as he followed the hoof prints north. Don't give up, amigo. I'm coming. Underneath the mask, his face grew hot and sweaty.
Minutes later, he saw a lone horseman well ahead of him. It's the bandit! Zorro thought, as he slowed Toronado's gait to a halt. He didn't want to give his presence away, just yet. He needed this bandit to show him where Felipe was being held.
An hour later, the man approached a lone adobe hut that stood just past the edge of the rocky plateau, close to a grove of trees. Smoke drifted out of the chimney.
Zorro stopped close to another grove and crouched behind a boulder. The bandit dismounted, froze for a moment, then walked behind the hut into the first grove. Now where is he going? Zorro wondered.
For a few minutes, Zorro knelt by the massive boulder to plan his strategy. Suddenly, a twig snapped behind him. Zorro leaped to his feet, unsheathed his saber, and whirled around.
The bandito whom Zorro had followed bore down on him, pistol in hand, and scar on his face. "Zorro!" he muttered. "Always the hero, aren't you? Well, not this time! That boy we got is worth a lot of money to us, and so are you! We could use another 5,000 pesos."
Zorro shrugged, faking nonchalance; inside, his stomach churned. If this bandit yelled a warning, Felipe's captors would use him as a hostage to help them escape. Somehow, Zorro had to prevent this bandit from announcing Zorro's presence!
He nodded at Toronado. The stallion reared and knocked the pistol out of the man's hand. Before the man could yell, Zorro punched his face and knocked him out. After carving a Z on the back of the man's shirt, he hastily tied the man's hands behind his back and gagged him. He then tied the bandit's feet together.
"Watch him, Toronado," Zorro ordered. "I must rescue Felipe." Toronado shook his head up and down as if he understood.
Zorro tiptoed toward the hut, not wanting to give his presence away to the remaining bandidos inside. For a second, he stood just outside the open pine door, listening to the bandits chat. He then rushed inside.
Felipe stared at him in relief and delight. "Zorro!" one of the bandits shouted.
The bandidos grabbed their swords and rushed at him. Zorro parried their strokes easily, disarmed them, and then knocked them out, one by one. The two bandits slumped to the floor; Zorro carved Z's on the backs of their homespun cotton trousers.
Zorro sheathed his saber and approached Felipe. He untied the boy's hands, then his feet. He lifted Felipe up from the chair and hugged him tightly for a long moment.
"Are you all right, my friend?" he whispered huskily. Felipe nodded, pressing his face against Zorro's black linen tunic.
Zorro lifted Felipe's chin and smiled down at him. "Come, Felipe. Let's tie up these two, then we'll take them to my father and Sergeant Mendoza. By now, I fully expect them to be at the ridge near Red Rock River, waiting for these bandidos--and for you."
Zorro and Felipe tied up the two bandits with the same ropes they had used to bind Felipe. Zorro carried them outside, one at a time; he then brought the third bandit from the boulder and laid the three bandidos on their horses. Zorro grabbed the horses' reins and led the way toward Red Rock River. Felipe rode behind Zorro on Toronado's back, holding his patrón tightly as Toronado galloped.
Two hours later, they arrived at the designated spot. In the distance ahead, Zorro saw his father waiting with Sergeant Mendoza and a patrol of lancers. Red Rock River flowed less than half a mile behind them.
"We must part company, Felipe," Zorro said. Felipe nodded and dismounted, then Zorro handed him the horses' reins. "I'll see you back at the hacienda." Zorro paused. "And when I get there, I'll have Maria prepare you some food. Judging by the growls I heard in your stomach when we hugged, I suspect you're hungry."
Felipe nodded ruefully, and held his throat and swallowed to indicate that he was also thirsty. Zorro patted his shoulder, then left.
Felipe loped toward Don Alejandro and the soldiers, leading the three horses by their reins. The unconscious bandits dangled as he led them onward. When Don Alejandro saw him, he grabbed Sergeant Mendoza's shoulder and pointed. With a delighted shout, the caballero galloped toward Felipe, followed by Sergeant Mendoza and his lancers.
As the soldiers took the reins from Felipe, the aged don jumped off his mare, Dulcinea, and clasped Felipe tightly to his chest.
"You're safe!" Don Alejandro muttered, over and over, in a choked voice. When Felipe finally pulled back, his patrón brushed the boy's brown hair out of his eyes. "Are you all right, my boy?" Felipe smiled gratefully and nodded. "Zorro saved you, didn't he?" Felipe nodded again.
Don Alejandro hugged him again. "Tell me, did the bandits feed you? Give you water?"
Felipe shook his head; the aged caballero furrowed his eyebrows in concern and squeezed the boy's shoulder. "Don't worry, Felipe; Diego and I will feed you when we get home. You're going to have the day off, so you can rest. After you eat a good meal and take a bath, I want you to take a long siesta, all right?"
Felipe nodded his acquiescence. "Good." Don Alejandro smiled and hugged the boy once more.
"Don Alejandro, will you bring Felipe to the cuartel to file charges?" Sergeant Mendoza asked.
"Si. Tomorrow. Felipe needs to rest, today." Mendoza nodded in understanding, then patted Felipe's shoulder.
"Felipe, I'm so glad you're safe," the sergeant said. "I'll see you tomorrow in the alcalde's office, all right?"
Felipe nodded. "We'll be there," Don Alejandro promised. He mounted Dulcinea and helped Felipe climb up behind him. Felipe sighed and clung to his beloved patrón's back. What a relief it was to be safe!
THE END
©1998 by Kathryn D. Green
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