BANDITS TAKE THEIR TOLL
“Run!” cried Grace.
“The diary!” exclaimed Elfreda, as Grace dropped the book, snatched
it up, and ran clambering down the rocks.
The guide saw them coming, saw that something was wrong, and strode
forward to meet the two girls.
“What is it?” he asked sharply.
“A prowler,” answered Grace, out of breath.
“Where?”
“There! On the other side of the rock. He was spying on us, and I
think Miss Briggs hit him with a piece of rock,” exclaimed Grace.
“Lieutenant!” called Hamilton White, and sprinted around the base of
the big rock. Hippy Wingate was not far behind him, though Hippy did
not know what had occurred, nor did he wait for an explanation. He
knew that there was trouble, and that was sufficient for him.
The two men reached their objective at about the same time. White
was peering at the rocks and bushes at the base of the big rock.
“Miss Briggs did hit him. See the blood there, and the bushes
crushed where he fell. She must have given him a good wallop,” he
chuckled.
White began to run the trail, a trail that was plain and easily
followed. Hippy was right behind him, using his eyes to good
advantage.
“Lieutenant, I think you had best go back and watch the camp. This
may be a trick to coax us men away. Keep a sharp lookout. Have Brown
stand guard with you. There is little need to worry, for we can see
and hear. Skip!” urged the guide.
Hippy lost no time in getting back to camp, and when he reached
there he found Grace and Elfreda laughing, and explaining to their
companions what had happened.
They repeated the story to him.
“Oh, well, let them fuss. They can’t do anything to us,” averred
Lieutenant Wingate after he had heard all of the story. “I’ll sit on
top of the rock and watch over you children.”
“That’s what I say,” agreed Stacy. “We men can beat them at their
own game, and have a lap or so to spare. Ham will chase them so far
away that they never will find their way back. If he doesn’t I
will.”
“Don’t be too positive,” admonished Grace. “I think it wise for us
to be on the alert. For some reason those ruffians are determined to
be rid of us, at least.”
“Oh, I hope Hamilton will take care of himself,” murmured Emma,
whereat her companions laughed heartily.
None of the girls left the immediate camp all that morning; they
even sent Stacy to the spring for water, much to that young man’s
disgust, for Stacy had planned on having a fine day’s sleep in his
tent.
Noon came, and the guide had not returned, so Grace decided that
they would have something to eat. The girls got the meal.
After they sat down to eat, the girls tried to be merry, but they
admitted that they missed Hamilton White, though none felt alarm at
his absence. The meal finished, dishes were washed and put away, and
packs laid out for a quick move, in the event of that becoming
necessary, for by this time the Overland Riders had learned to be
ready at a moment’s notice.
Hippy from his point of vantage kept guard over the camp and its
vicinity, now and then studying the view spread out before him. The
air was fragrant with the odor of the forest, and Hippy grew sleepy.
To keep awake he decided to get down and walk. This he did, reaching
the ground on the side of the rock farthest from the camp.
The Overlander, with only a revolver, strolled through the forest
making a circle around the camp, and studying the trees for blazes
and the ground for indications of recent visitors. Now and then he
would sit down, back against a tree, and gaze up into the blue sky
and the waving tops of the big pines.
The afternoon wore away and Hippy was still trail-hunting. It was
near supper time when Nora called him. There was no answer, so she
climbed the rock, expecting to find her husband sleeping, for Hippy
loved sleep fully as much as Stacy Brown did.
Lieutenant Wingate was not on the rock, but Nora found his rifle
laying there. She ran back to her companions in alarm.
“Hippy isn’t there!” she cried. “Oh, girls, can anything have
happened to him?” Nora was on the verge of tears.
“No, of course not,” comforted Grace.
“Then where is he?”
“Probably asleep somewhere about,” suggested Emma. “You know he and
Stacy have the sleep habit.”
“I don’t believe it. I am going out to search for him.”
“Nora, you will not!” differed Grace with emphasis. “We will all
remain where we are. To get separated would be foolish. Hippy is all
right, so sit down and chat with us. Mr. White will be along soon,
and some others besides Emma Dean will be glad to see him,” she
added, with a teasing glance at Emma.
The Overland girls ate a cold supper that night, no one feeling like
cooking or sitting down to a hearty meal. Nora was so worried that
she refused to eat at all, and, while the other girls were equally
disturbed, they masked their real feelings by teasing each other.
Emma and Stacy were ragged unmercifully.
Darkness settled over the forest, but still no Hippy, no guide.
“I think it will be advisable to bring in the horses, don’t you,
Elfreda?” asked Grace.
Miss Briggs and the others thought that would be a wise move, so the
ponies, and such of their equipment as was outside the camp, were
brought in; fuel was gathered and piled up so that they might keep
the fire burning; then the party sat down in their tents, with
blankets thrown over their shoulders, and began their watch.
It was ten o’clock that night when the hail of Ham White was heard,
and after the tension of the last few hours the Overland girls felt
like screaming a welcome. Instead they sprang out and stood awaiting
him.
“Well, did you good people think I had deserted you?” he cried out.
“I am nearly famished. Is there anything left from dinner?”
“Yes, of course there is. I will get you something. First I must
tell you. Mr. Wingate has been missing since some time this
afternoon. We don’t know what to make of it unless he has fallen
asleep somewhere,” said Grace.
“What! Tell me about it.”
Nora told the guide the story, explaining that Hippy had taken up
his station on the rock to guard the camp, and that that was the
last they saw of him.
Ham White was disturbed, but he did not show it. Instead he laughed.
“No doubt, as Mrs. Gray has suggested, he has gone to sleep. Where
is Mr. Brown?”
“He is asleep in his tent, as usual,” spoke up Emma. “Oh, Hamilton,
won’t you please find Hippy—now?”
“I will do my best. Give me a snack and I’ll go out now. I followed
the other trail for something like five miles. There were four men
in the party, only one of whom came near the camp. The trail finally
bumped into the side of a mountain and I lost it. It was so dark I
could not follow it farther. Thank you!” he added, as Emma handed
him some bacon. “I will go right out.”
They followed him around the rock and watched with keen interest as
Ham White searched for and found the trail of the missing Hippy,
which he followed, with the aid of his pocket lamp, for some
distance.
“He was strolling,” announced the guide. “You can see here where he
sat down to rest, then went on. Please return to camp. Unless he
wandered off and lost his way, I shall probably soon find him.”
The girls promptly turned back towards camp, Nora with reluctance,
which she made no effort to conceal. Then followed two hours of
anxiety. The guide returned shortly after midnight.
“There is no use of searching farther to-night,” he announced. “Mr.
Wingate undoubtedly has strayed away, but I’ll find him in the
morning. Please turn in and get some rest, for we shall undoubtedly
have an active day to-morrow. In any event, don’t lose your nerve,
Mrs. Wingate. The Lieutenant has had enough experience to know how
to take care of himself.”
Nora went to her tent weeping, Emma Dean’s arm around her, but Grace
held back at a gesture from Elfreda, who had observed that the guide
studiously avoided looking directly at Nora Wingate.
“Mr. White, have you anything to say to us?” questioned Elfreda.
“Meaning what?”
“We wish to know what you really did discover. It was well not to
say any more than you did to Mrs. Wingate.”
“You made a discovery of some sort—of that we are convinced,” spoke
up Grace.
“Yes, I did,” admitted White. “I found the lieutenant’s revolver
beside a tree where he had been sitting. His trail ended there!”
“Meaning?” persisted Miss Briggs.
“That he was attacked and carried away, in all probability. I found
evidences of that.”
“What can be done?” demanded Elfreda.
“Nothing until morning. I have means of obtaining assistance, which
I will employ as soon as it is light enough to see.”
The girls turned away and walked slowly to their tent, and the guide
stepped over to the tent occupied by Hippy and Stacy Brown. He was
out in a moment and striding towards Elfreda’s quarters.
“Miss Briggs! Mrs. Gray!” he called.
“Yes!” answered the voices of Elfreda and Grace.
“Stacy Brown is not in his tent. There has been a struggle, and the
boy has been forcibly removed,” was the startling announcement.