BLACK GEORGE'S WARNING.
The Yankee spotter was in the treasure house of Ranch Robin.
There were shelves in the little room, the walls of which seemed to be
made of iron, and the detective leaned forward and looked with all his
vision.
He saw wealth everywhere.
There were sacks of coin and bars of gold.
Belle Demona stood by his side and held the light so as to let him take
in all this scene.
For some time not a word was spoken.
Old Broadbrim looked around the chamber and saw that it was well
guarded against attack from without.
The robbers of the desert might burn the buildings overhead, and miss
the treasure which would be safe despite the flames.
"Isn't it worth fighting for?" asked Belle Demona.
The detective nodded and continued to gaze at the alluring sight.
"Would you know how much is here? I scarcely know. None of us can
tell. The wealth is almost fabulous, for sheep raising in Australia
is profitable, and here one turns one's money fast. But it is worth
fighting for against all the ranch plunderers in the land. A part of it
is yours, Riggs, if you stand by us."
Her words were in the nature of an appeal, and the detective heard her
through without answering.
"You're not afraid to swear loyalty to the bitter end?" she went on.
"We are one here. Our interests are the same, and we must defend the
ranch to the last."
Old Broadbrim looked into her face and caught the light that filled it
with eagerness.
"Merle may be in danger from another point," she resumed, coming close
to him and suddenly dropping her voice. "In the first place, he has
incurred the hatred of a young girl who carries a knife. Then, he
recently crossed the sea to do me a service, and made enemies there. He
is in danger. You must stand by Merle, Riggs."
"I understand, but if Merle made enemies across the sea they would
hardly follow him to the bush."
"Ah, you don't know these trackers. You have heard, perhaps, of them,
but you don't know the ferrets of London and America. They may follow
him even to Ranch Robin and may make it warm for him. But we will be on
the alert, and the first detective to step upon my land, dies like a
dog!"
Her beautiful face came very close to Old Broadbrim's, and the
detective retreated a step.
"I'll kill him on sight!" she went on, her voice becoming a hiss. "No
shadower comes to Ranch Robin to pursue his calling and lives! We must
stand together, Riggs. I like you for your bravery and spirit. You
saved Merle's life last night, and Merle will pay you back one of these
days."
"I've been paid back already; I don't want his gold. I am but a
guardsman, and I'll see that he is guarded against all his foes as long
as I remain here."
"That's it. No oath is needed by you, Riggs. You're worth all the gold
in this chamber, and I'll see that you're rewarded. But woe to the
tracker! Woe to the ferret who comes to Ranch Robin to play out his
hand!"
Five minutes later the detective stood in the upper room and looked
beyond the porch.
He was thinking fast.
At the first opportunity he quitted the house, and mounting his horse,
rode off over the fields.
Across the bridge he rode and on beyond the sheep lands.
He wanted to be alone.
At last he sat on his steed with the landscape stretching beyond him in
marvelous beauty.
A light wind, ladened with the scent of flowers, came to his nostrils,
and he admired the scene for some time in utter silence.
Presently there appeared in the high grass, some distance from the spot
where he had stopped, a figure that looked like a creeping Indian.
He watched it till it vanished, and then kept his gaze riveted upon the
place of its disappearance.
He knew that the natives of Australia were dangerous people, that
sometimes they play highwaymen with deadly effect, and now and then
leave their victims lying in the sun with an arrow in their hearts.
Old Broadbrim looked keenly at the spot he had selected, and at last
saw a bit of white rag floating over the grass.
It looked like a signal, and he regarded it some time in deep
reflection.
What did it mean, and was it a decoy?
By and by he rode toward the object, and at last drew rein just out of
arrow shot.
The little flag dropped as suddenly as it had come into view, and then
a man, half-naked, zigzagged through the grass toward him.
Old Broadbrim waited, with his hand on his revolver.
In a little time the man arose and stood erect--a tall, wiry,
dark-skinned native, with great black eyes and a shock of raven hair.
He sprang to where the detective was and rested his large hand on his
knee.
"They come to-night, captain," he said.
"Who--the bandits?"
"Captain Blacklocks and his robbers."
"You have seen them, then? Where are they?"
"Over the hills there," was the answer. "They are getting ready for the
swoop. They will burn the houses and strip the woman's treasury. You
must fight for your lives."
"It is to be 'no quarter,' is it?"
"No quarter," cried the native. "That is what they say. Blacklocks was
shot last night by one of the guards of the ranch, and he will have
revenge. They intend to murder all on the ranch, whom they outnumber
ten to one."
Old Broadbrim looked down into the man's face and asked his name.
"I am Black George," was the reply. "I overheard the robbers this
morning, and I want to save the lady of the ranch. For Captain Merle
I don't care so much, but for Belle Demona I would fight if I had the
opportunity."
"Then come back with me and enlist with us."
"No! You will probably find me in the fight when it comes off; but I
can't take service under Captain Merle."
"Why can't you?"
"I--don't--like--the man."
"Very well. We will hold the ranch to the last," said Old Broadbrim.
"If Blacklocks knew this perhaps he would postpone his swoop."
"Not he! You don't know him," cried Black George. "He has sworn a great
oath that by to-morrow not one of you shall be alive, and that the gold
in the treasure house shall be in the pockets of his bandits."
The native cast a hasty glance over the landscape behind him and drew
back.
"Get ready for the storm. It will come to-night," he finished; and in
another second Old Broadbrim saw him withdraw.
Slowly the detective rode back to the ranch.
He dismounted in front of the dwelling house and stood face to face
with both Merle and Belle Demona.
He delivered his information, and saw the face of Merle lose a little
color, and the woman's eyes suddenly flash.
"Let them come!" she cried. "We will defend the ranch to the bitter
end. With you, Riggs, and the rest of the new recruits, we will meet
these nighthawks and clip their wings. But who warned us?"
"Black George."
"That rascal?" cried Merle. "Why, that's the man I caught stealing
sheep last summer and had whipped on the scene of his rascality. I
don't like him."
"There's no love lost between you, then," smiled Old Broadbrim. "But
the bandits will attack us."
"Yes, they will come. We must prepare, and if the worst comes we will
spring the mine," said the ranch queen.
As she finished she beckoned to Old Broadbrim and led him into her
boudoir.
Opening a little door in the wall, she pointed to what looked like a
bit of string hanging from above.
"That is the fuse," said she. "It is to be fired at the last extremity.
It means death and destruction to all inside Ranch Robin at the time."
"Where is the mine?"
"Directly under us. There is powder enough to deal death to every
living thing within a radius of half a mile; it will be involving
friend and foe in a terrible burial. You see what chances we took
when we came to this place? It was a desperate throw of the dice, but
we wanted a home where we would be safe against the keen men of the
trails of two worlds, and but for the robbers of the deserts we would
be happy. I have had my revenge. Merle carried out my commands, and the
enemy who insulted me felt the hand of the avenger."
She shut the little door in the wall and turned away.
Old Broadbrim took particular note of the situation of the secret door,
and walked with Belle Demona from the room.
Merle Macray turned from the front window and caught the detective's
eye.
"This way, Riggs," said he, and they stepped out upon the porch.
"Did you find her?" he asked eagerly.
Old Broadbrim kept cool and shook his head.
"I have found foot tracks near the old sheep sheds. I even entered them
a while ago and looked around. She has been there, and I found a man's
footprints in the dust under the old roofs."
"Oh, I went over there in hopes of finding her, and----"
"Then you must have missed her, for her tracks are strangely mixed with
yours. If you had watched a little longer, Riggs, you might have got
the twist on her neck. I'm going to fire the sheds at sundown. They
will burn like tinder boxes, and that will deprive this fair viper of a
shelter, and perhaps the coming foe of an ambush."
A shudder passed over the detective's frame at this, and he thought of
the girl in the hay.
She must be warned; but how?
He knew that a match would start the old sheds like a wisp of flax,
and that before Stareyes could escape she would be caught by the flames
and destroyed.
"Riggs, the more I look at you the more familiar grows your face,"
suddenly resumed the hunted man. "I once saw a man like you, but it was
not in Australia. It is strange how these resemblances overtake and
puzzle us. I can't account for it."
"Whom do I look like? Can't you make out, Captain Merle?"
Merle fell back a step and gazed at the detective.
He slowly shook his head.
"I can't quite make out," said he. "But if you were the man I don't
want to see just now, I'd kill you in your tracks. Never mind, Riggs.
You're all right, but still you look like some one I don't like. It's
the way of the world, and we find it so even in the bush."
Merle laughed, and the detective, without a change of countenance, kept
his nerve and looked straight into the face before him.
It seemed the shadow of death all the time.