ALARM
The moonlight turned the ground to silver dust and gave the girls the
appearance of ghostly white riders as, single file, they started on
their journey back to the K Bar O ranch house. They were feeling a
trifle sad and regretful that it was almost time to leave these wide
open spaces they had grown to love, when all thought of the approaching
parting was jogged out of them.
Janet, who had been riding behind Gale, turned her horse from the line
to come up beside Phyllis. At the same moment something, presumably a
squirrel or jack rabbit, darted across from the side of the trail in
front of her horse. She had been riding with loose reins, her horse’s
head drooping forward, and now, when her horse reared in sudden fright,
she was almost unseated. The horse stood for a moment balanced on his
hind legs, pawing the air wildly with his forehoofs, then came down to
earth and raced away, Janet trying frantically to retrieve her reins.
Jim had joined them again for the return to the ranch house, and now the
minute he saw Janet’s horse was a runaway, urged his own mount after the
girl’s. Tom was a close second, with Gale right behind him. The others
strung out behind the first three, all bent on catching the runaway or
saving Janet from an accident.
The wild dash of her horse, taking her utterly by surprise, had knocked
all thought from Janet’s head and now she could do nothing but cling
grimly to her seat. Darn the horse! she thought exasperatedly. He was
supposed to be tame and used to the wild life of the plains and hills,
yet a little jack rabbit could scare him out of his wits! She flung a
hasty glance over her shoulder and saw her friends bearing down on her.
But as if her own horse decided he didn’t want to be caught, he put on a
sudden spurt and widened the distance.
Janet could see the reins dangling over the horse’s head, just out of
her reach. Murmuring soothingly in his ear, Janet endeavored to catch
the elusive reins but failed. One hand clinging desperately to the
pommel on her saddle, Janet rose in her stirrups. For an instant she
felt the reins in her fingers and then she had lost them again. She was
quite well aware what the consequences would be if her horse threw her.
She might suddenly find herself with a broken shoulder or arm or a
fractured skull. The thought wasn’t at all pleasant and she set her
teeth grimly, determined to stop the fool horse before something did
happen to both of them.
They were coming out onto a wide plain where her horse had the best
chance of all to run himself out. But she didn’t propose to stick to him
until he was tired. She wanted him stopped now before he jolted all her
bones loose. Clinging to the saddle and rising in her stirrups she
leaned as far forward as possible. The horse lurched suddenly and it was
by the merest piece of luck that she wasn’t thrown off on her face. But
she clung to her saddle and persisted in her attempt to reach the reins.
Finally her fingers closed on the left rein and she hung onto it
desperately. She pulled with all her strength but the horse didn’t
slacken in speed, not a fraction. He seemed bent on reaching some
invisible object ahead and nothing could swerve him from his purpose.
Janet braced her feet squarely in the stirrups, put both hands on the
rein and continued to pull.
Phyllis, who was behind Gale in the race to reach Janet, saw the runaway
swerve suddenly, an act all of them had been unprepared for. Janet’s
horse raced parallel to its pursuers and it was a moment of lost
precious time before either Jim or Tom could change the course of their
own mounts. Phyllis, by the time Jim was after Janet again, had sent her
horse at an abrupt angle from the group. If Janet’s horse did not swerve
again, and she herself kept on at the present line, the two were bound
to come together. Perhaps if they collided it would bring Janet’s horse
to a halt, she reflected with a bit of humor.
For all of Janet’s tugging at the rein her horse was adamant. He did not
slacken his speed until he began to feel tired. He had swerved from his
course, but he would not stop. Janet, her whole attention claimed by the
horse under her, did not see Phyllis until horse and rider loomed up
before her. She felt herself suddenly hurled over her horse’s head as he
made a mad attempt to stop himself, and the next second she found
herself on top of Phyllis on the ground.
Janet rolled off her friend and sat up. She felt herself all over to be
sure she was still in one piece. It had been quite a jolt, that landing
on the ground. Then she turned to Phyllis. Her chum had not stirred and
Janet feared the girl might be seriously hurt.
“I say, Phyll, are you all right?” Janet asked anxiously.
Phyllis opened her eyes and grinned through the dust and grime she had
acquired when she pitched headlong to the ground.
“Yes,” she said thickly through a mouth full of dust. “I s’pose I’m all
right, but you knocked all the wind out of me. I also saw several stars
I never knew existed. But we stopped him, didn’t we?” she demanded,
gazing at Janet’s horse which was standing meekly beside Phyllis’ own,
all trace of rebellion gone.
“He ought to stop now, the crazy thing,” Janet said, getting stiffly to
her feet. “You know, Phyll,” she said with a laugh, “you aren’t at all
soft to land on. I’m all bumps and bruises.”
“You can be glad I was here to land on,” Phyllis said, “you might have
picked a cactus, you know.”
“It isn’t everybody has a runaway,” Janet said with satisfaction. “I’ve
certainly something to write home about now,” she declared, as the two
turned to greet their friends.
“All right?” Gale asked anxiously as the others flung themselves from
their horses and gathered solicitously around.
“Yes, but I’m going to sue Janet for damages,” Phyllis declared, rubbing
a bruised place tenderly. “She had no right to knock me off my horse.”
“You had no business running into me,” Janet laughed in turn.
“Our hearts were in our mouths when we saw Janet fly through the air
over her horse’s head,” Val declared.
“She floats through the air with the greatest of ease----” Carol started
to sing when Janet glared at her.
“Riding, especially runaways, gives me an appetite,” Virginia said.
“Suppose we have a bite of lunch.”
“You are indeed my friend,” Janet declared to Virginia. “You always know
just what I need.”
A half hour later the ride was resumed. Janet and Phyllis, to the
amusement of their friends, both lowered themselves gingerly into their
saddles. Their experience had left them jolted and bruised and before
much riding they began to coax the others to camp for the rest of the
night.
“We might as well,” Tom said. “It’s already nearing morning and this
afternoon will see us at the K Bar O even if we take our time.”
They camped on the plains and decided not to put the tents up for the
few hours that they meant to remain there. The girls rolled in blankets,
feet toward the campfire, and in a few moments all but Gale and Virginia
were dozing.
Lying flat on her back, the earth warm beneath her, staring up at the
stars overhead, Gale felt suddenly tiny, so infinitesimal. The plain was
so wide, the sky so near, the stars so bright----
“What are you thinking about?” Virginia asked from beside her.
“The stars,” Gale answered. “Didn’t somebody call them the windows of
heaven?”
“Are you looking for the angels with their golden harps?” Virginia
laughed.
“Yes,” Gale agreed with a smile. “Do you think I’ll see any?”
“Never can tell,” Virginia said, smothering a yawn. “Which one is your
wagon hitched to?”
“Which angel?” queried Gale.
“No, silly, which star?”
“That one up there, see it? The little one, all sparkly. Oh!” Gale
laughed, “It winked at me.”
“Not very big,” Virginia commented, squinting at the sky. “Whyn’t you
pick a big one?”
“Wait until it grows up,” Gale murmured. “Just like me, wait until I
grow up!”
“Won’t that be sompin’,” Virginia giggled. “What are you going to be? A
female Lindbergh?”
“Never can tell,” Gale said. “Maybe I’ll be another Columbus.”
“I don’t know whether there are any lands left to discover, so you might
have a little difficulty along that line,” was Virginia’s opinion.
“Meanwhile--I’m getting sleepy.”
She fell silent and Gale, too, pulled her blanket closer for a cool wind
had sprung up. The last thing she remembered before Tom brought them all
wide awake with a loud banging on the frying pan was the wild, untamed
howl of a coyote.
With the first dancing rays of the sun, the riders were up and about
their business. Packs securely fastened on the pack horses and the girls
mounted, they started on their way. As always when riding their spirits
rose with the sun. Tom was playing his harmonica and Janet and Carol
both insisted on giving voice to the tune Tom was playing until the
other girls threatened dire punishment unless they stopped.
Noon found them riding into the valley with the K Bar O ranch house just
ahead of them. To the girls it seemed as though there were a great many
men gathered about the bunkhouse and the corral. The very air seemed
tinged with suspense and mystery. Unconscious that they did so, all the
riders spurred their horses on at an increased pace. Why should there be
such activity where usually there were peace and orderliness unless
something had happened? It was as if a cloud of trouble had descended on
the K Bar O.
“I wonder what’s the matter?” Virginia murmured to Gale. “I hope nothing
has happened----”
“We’ll soon find out,” Gale answered as the horses trotted up to the
corral and the girls dismounted. “Look, isn’t that the Sheriff?”
“Hello, there, youngsters!” Gale’s uncle came forward and at his heels
came Sheriff Colman.
“What’s up, Dad?” Tom asked anxiously.
The Sheriff looked a bit sheepish and Mr. Wilson frowned in annoyance.
“It’s the--rustlers,” the Sheriff said finally. “They’ve
escaped--vamoosed!”
“Gone?” Valerie asked incredibly. “But how----”
“We locked ’em in the bunkhouse last night; when we came to the
bunkhouse--they were gone.”
“The three of them?” Virginia asked.
Mr. Wilson nodded. “We think they are hiding somewhere around the ranch.
They couldn’t have gone far.”
Carol cocked a speculative eye in the direction of Gale and Valerie. “I
wouldn’t want to be in your shoes with the three of them loose.”
“You’re cheerful,” Gale told her.
“It does make me rather uncomfortable,” Valerie said, uneasily glancing
over her shoulder as if she expected the Mexican to rise up behind her.
“Don’t let their threats frighten you,” the Sheriff said heartily.
“There are enough of my deputies here on the ranch to subdue an army.
You’ll be safe.”
“I hope so,” Valerie said, but her tone wasn’t very confident.
“How about some lunch?” Tom put in. “You can tell us about what’s
happened then.”
“Where’s Mother?” Virginia asked.
“She’s gone into town to stay with the Johnsons a few days--until we
find these bandits,” her father replied. “I wish you girls hadn’t come
back right now.”
“We thought we were coming to peace and quiet,” Phyllis laughed.
“Instead we walk into a----”
“Riot,” supplied Janet.
Luncheon was a spasmodic affair, interrupted by deputies wanting a
consultation with the Sheriff, and with discussions as to where the men
might be hiding. The hours between luncheon and dinner passed and still
the outlaws were not found. They eluded capture with the elusiveness of
ghosts. The Sheriff was angry and chagrined. It didn’t speak well for
his prowess as an officer of the law to have criminals escape him so
constantly.
The girls were worried. Each believed that the bandits would try to seek
revenge on the two who had been responsible for their capture. Valerie
especially had unpleasant memories of Pedro and his knife.
Gale and Virginia alone held the opinion that the outlaws wouldn’t
linger near the ranch when there were so many officers about. Why should
they risk their freedom for revenge? It seemed silly to fear the angry
threats made when the Sheriff and his men captured the bandits. Those
kind of men were notoriously brave talkers, but when it came to putting
their deeds into words they were slow in action. Gale believed their
bluster had been a mere attempt to cover up their fear of the law. She
refused to be worried over their escape.
“I’ll wager they are in Mexico by now,” she said confidently to Valerie
as the two stood at the window of their room preparatory to jumping into
bed.
“The Sheriff doesn’t think so,” Valerie said bluntly. “Or if he does,
why didn’t he follow them?”
“Because they didn’t leave a trail,” a jolly voice said behind them and
Janet and Carol trailed into the room through the communicating door.
Both were clad in flowing pajamas and robes and seated themselves
cross-legged on the bed.
“I happen to know,” Carol said in a mysterious whisper, “that the
Sheriff and his men trailed the outlaws to the creek and there the trail
was lost.”
“Isn’t that always the way?” Janet said wearily. “I thought we were
going to have some excitement but all the fun is over before we get
here.”
In answer to her words a volley of shots rang out from the ranch yard.
Valerie frowned on her friend. “All the fun is over, eh? I wonder what
that was?”
“I’m going to find out,” Gale said and ran from the room with Valerie at
her heels.
Carol and Janet remained calmly on the bed. When Gale and Valerie
returned Janet looked up in inquiry.
“Merely one of the patrolling sentries shooting at a shadow,” Gale said
dryly.
“Hm,” Janet yawned. “Those fellows are so nervous if they suddenly
looked in a mirror they would shoot themselves!”
“How come you didn’t run when you heard the shooting?” Valerie wanted to
know. “For all you know it might have been a lot of excitement.”
Janet shook her head. “I’ve got a sixth sense that tells me when there
is excitement in the air.”
“It doesn’t tell you when your horse is going to run away though, does
it?” Carol asked teasingly.
“Please,” Janet begged, “that is a painful subject. Let’s not talk of
it--I’ve still got a couple of bruises. I’m going to bed,” she announced
suddenly.
“It’s about time,” Carol declared, jumping up.
“Why do you say that?” Janet demanded. “If you’re so sleepy why didn’t
you go hours ago?”
“Because I can’t go without you, darling,” Carol said sweetly. “I can’t
sleep even if I do, because when you come in you are sure to fall over
something and scare all sleep out of me.”
“I do not,” Janet protested.
When the two, still arguing, had closed the door to their room Gale and
Valerie prepared for bed.
“I shall probably dream of Pedro,” Valerie said as she jumped between
the covers. “That fellow haunts me!”
“Nonsense,” Gale laughed. “Don’t let your mind dwell on it. Anyway,” she
sighed, “we’ll be going home in three days and then you can get all the
sleep you like.”
“Just the same,” Val murmured, “I won’t ever forget that knife.”
When the lights were out and sleep had come to the girls, Gale slept
dreamlessly, peacefully. But Valerie tossed and fretted, pursued in her
dreams by Pedro and his knife, which, with the fantasy of dreams, had
grown to new and large proportions.