Frank knew that they had better not loiter there. Still, he could
not see Jose losing blood like that, when it was so easy to stop the
flow.
So, while Andy watched to see that none of the frightened Indians
got over their scare, and came sneaking back, bent on potting some
of the palefaces, Frank made a quick job of looking after the
wounded arm of the Mexican.
The man seemed to hardly know what to make of it all. He watched
every move of the amateur doctor as though he could not understand
how any one would be so generous toward an enemy. But Frank knew
what he was doing, and he meant to extract a promise from Jose,
before they left him, that never again would he dream of trying to
do any injury toward either little Becky or Mr. Witherspoon, her
relative, and legally appointed guardian. And he believed the man
would keep such a promise faithfully too; for Frank was a pretty
good reader of human nature.
Then they all walked toward the aeroplane that lay there on the hot
sand as a camel of the desert might for its Arab owner, prostrate
for his mounting.
It was easy enough to fasten little Becky in; but with the man there
had to be some maneuvering, because a sudden movement on his part
would endanger them all. Jose drew a long breath as he took his
seat, and held grimly onto an upright with his one well hand, his
rifle strapped to his back meanwhile. It was as though he hardly
expected to ever come safely down again; but then he had carefully
counted the cost, and having decided his pride would not allow him
to back out.
Frank knew that it would be a very difficult task to get the biplane
to travel over the sand at a rate of speed sufficient to allow of
their mounting when the proper moment came; but he had experimented
so many times, looking to some such contingency, that he believed he
could surmount every trouble.
He therefore moved the aeroplane with the help of the others, so
that he would have the assistance of the slight wind that was
blowing.
Finally all was ready.
The motor began to hum, gradually increasing its note as Frank
turned on more power, on finding that his hopes were about to be
fulfilled. Yes, they were actually passing along over the sand now;
for just there it was packed more than in most places. Andy had held
his breath with the suspense, figuring on how he could climb back if
he had to go overboard to help push. But it was all right now, and
such a move would not be necessary.
When the final moment arrived, they started gradually upward. Frank
heard Jose gasp for breath, and he knew the Mexican must be saying
his prayers from the low mumble that drifted in at his ear;
doubtless the man was almost stiff with fright when he dared look
down, and saw that he was apparently as far above the surface of the
desert as many mountain peaks would be.
Frank knew what he was doing, and that if the man was left on the
desert in his present wounded and weakened condition, it was just
the same as giving him over to death, which might come in any one of
several ways. If the Indians did not get him he might starve or die
from lack of water; and then again, should the infuriated cow
puncher band from the Double X Ranch come upon Jose he might count
on a short shrift and a rope.
After all was said and done, fortune had been so kind that no
irreparable damage had followed the bold raid of Jose, unless indeed
poor old Tige had received a dose of poison as the boys had feared.
Little Becky seemed to have come through it all in very good shape,
and for these mercies Frank felt that they had great reason to be
thankful.
And that was mainly why he was now carrying Jose across the balance
of the desert to place him on the road to the near-by border, beyond
which he undoubtedly had friends who would take care of him.
Andy had not forgotten the Indians, and was constantly on the
lookout for any signs of them. Whenever he did sight a skulking
figure Andy made haste to squeeze the rubber that caused the siren
to give tongue. Jose nearly lost his hold the first time he heard
that fierce whoop so close to his ear; for of course in his nervous
condition he thought that something had burst, and that they were
now bound to go tumbling down through all that space to be splashed
about below.
But that lasted for only a very brief time, since they speedily
reached a point far beyond where any of the fleeing Indians had
gone. After that it was plain sailing and they made rapid speed.
Then, after they had covered many miles in this fashion, with the
glasses Andy was able to make out trees ahead, and some sort of
ridge that doubtless marked the delimitation of the desert’s border.
Nearer and nearer they drew. Jose began to actually consider that he
still had something of a chance to live through it all; though the
balance of his life he would certainly never be apt to forget what
dreadful fears had held him gripped fast in their power when up in a
fast-flying aeroplane.
Now the keen-eyed pilot was looking for a likely place to land, and
this he discovered close to the trees themselves, where the ground
became much firmer, and Jose could immediately get under shelter
from the broiling sun.
After coming down from that cool altitude the tremendous heat of the
desert was almost overpowering, and both boys were glad to know that
they did not have to continue on through it for any great length of
time.
So Jose was finally landed. He seemed to be rejoiced to find himself
once more on solid ground. True, he would always boast of having
been up almost to the clouds, but it is unlikely that any ordinary
attraction could tempt him to try it again.
He shook hands with each of the boys when they were ready to once
more venture into unknown space with the aeroplane. Andy was a
little dubious about accepting that hand, which he felt pretty sure
had not always been free from crime; but then Frank had done it, and
he felt that he could not do better than imitate his cousin in such
matters.
They had no particular trouble about the new launching; indeed, now
that the biplane was free from the weight of Jose, it seemed to
mount upward like a bird that has broken loose from its cage.
The last they saw of the Mexican he was waving a hand after them.
And Frank felt well satisfied with the morning’s work. He believed
that not only had they succeeded in rescuing the little girl, but
that fortune had allowed them to give a bad man a chance to open his
eyes. It might be the means of turning Jose Sandero from his evil
ways; and then again the incident was liable to be swallowed up by
the demands of his hard life. And probably they would never know.
Once again they were flying boldly across the wide stretch of
desert, with its lonely looking cactus plants, and its queer
windrows of sand that looked for all the world as though a giant
comb had been drawn over the land, leaving it in this peculiar
condition. When, finally, they reached the northern end of the
desert, and headed direct for the ranch house, possibly both of the
Bird boys were feeling happier that ever before in all their lives.
They had accomplished what seemed next door to a miracle, because,
had the men in “chaps” chased after Jose, and threatened to take
him, there could be no telling what the desperate Mexican might not
have done rather than submit.
“Look there, Frank,” Andy was saying a little later, “you can see
the ranch house as plain as anything from here, and why, if that
ain’t the boys coming on the tear over yonder!”
Frank, looking, saw that his chum spoke the truth. There could be
seen a confused medley of boys and horses. They were whipping their
mounts madly, and using both hats and quirts to try and increase
their speed.
“That must be Charley Woo among the front ones,” Frank remarked,
after he had taken a second good look.
“Yes, you can tell him miles off by his white clothes,” Andy went on
to say, “and he’s done himself proud, has Charley, this day. Uncle
must be there alongside, and asking more questions, as he tried to
get a little more speed out of his mount. And I reckon they’ve
glimpsed us, Frank, by the way they act. Are we going to land and
let them see that Little Sunbeam is safe with us?”
“It would be cruelty to animals not to,” replied the pilot, as he
started to head gradually toward the earth.
Ten minutes later, and they were surrounded by an eager, excited
throng, and when Buckskin, Shorty, and all that lot learned that
little Becky had not suffered to any serious extent as a result of
her terribly long and wearisome ride, bound on a pony as she had
been, they “awoke all creation,” as Andy declared, with their
exultant whoops.
Nothing would do but that the boys must tell the whole story; and
those wild riders fairly held their breath as they listened to the
modest account of that most remarkable dash through space, to arrive
just in the nick of time—Frank called it the psychological moment,
and then had to stop and explain just what he meant by that, before
they would let him proceed.
It was the greatest story they had ever heard. They would never have
believed such a thing possible, only that they knew Frank and Andy
never told yarns, or even stretched a fish story. Besides, there was
little Becky ready to corroborate all that had been said. Mr.
Witherspoon insisted upon taking the child on his horse, and thus
heading for the ranch, while the boys continued their flight; of
course they would arrive at their destination an hour before the
ponies could make it, and thus relieve the minds of those who were
there.
The round-up was all off for the present. Later on they could make
another start, and this time the boys would be along, to witness all
that was done, with Andy taking pictures of the various phases of
the operation, as long as his roll of films lasted.
But Mr. Witherspoon had learned a lesson, and never again would he
leave home without a sufficient guard remaining there at the ranch
house to handle any situation that might arise.
He took some of Frank’s philosophy, to the effect that he would
always after that be prepared for possibilities, since lightning can
at times apparently strike out of a clear sky.
The boys’ time on the ranch was now getting toward a close; but
before they left they had one pleasant surprise that made them feel
happy. It was just on the little maid’s sixth birthday that a tired
Mexican came to the place and asked to see Mr. Witherspoon.
It happened that both boys were with him, and remembering their
recent adventure in connection with one such greaser, they eyed the
dusty traveler with more or less curiosity. He handed Mr.
Witherspoon a packet which he said his master, who was a ranchero
down in Chihuahua, Mexico, had ordered him to get there before dark
on this particular day.
Opening the packet the ranchman disclosed some beautiful silken
garments such as would be apt to set a little girl wild with
delight, and also a lovely slender gold necklace with pearls as its
ornaments.
When he had glanced at the paper that had come with this gift Mr.
Witherspoon smiled, and looked meaningly at the boys.
“Well, all I can say is, that you two boys are next door to wizards.
You’ve actually made an impression on a heart that I calculated was
as hard as flint. Here are some presents for our little girl,” and
on the paper I read in Spanish: “To the little Senorita Rebecca from
her unworthy father, on her sixth birthday. May the good God bless
her.”
And neither of the boys so much as smiled, for they felt that in
some fashion that merciful act of Frank’s in treating Jose Sandero
so generously had borne such fruit as no one would ever have
believed possible.
When the time came for them to say goodbye to Uncle Jethro and the
jolly boys on the Double X Ranch, it was hard to do it. And neither
Frank nor Andy would ever forget the rousing cheers that burst from
the lips of those happy-go-lucky punchers, Buckskin, Waldo Kline,
Shorty, Alkali Joe and the rest, not forgetting even Charley Woo,
when they saw the last of them at the station.
Of course Frank and Andy reached their home town in safety, and in
due time the biplane once more rested in its accustomed hangar back
of Frank Bird’s home; with the first snow of winter covering the
ground, and a frosty tang in the air that was just the opposite of
that torrid wave the Bird boys struck when crossing the Arizona
desert.
And it is to be hoped that we will have the pleasure of recounting
further thrilling adventures that befell these intrepid air pilots
in other volumes to succeed this. Meanwhile, having seen them safely
through experiences at the cattle ranch, and once more back home
before the delayed session of school opened, it only remains for us
to say goodbye to the reader and write—
THE END.