A LITTLE MORE EXCITEMENT
The party Dorothy Dale and her companions were following into the
wilder section of the great Hardin Ranch, had almost an hour’s start
of their pursuers. If they were ignorant of such pursuit they might
not ride at top speed; therefore the pace set by Lance Petterby on his
pony, Gaby, must bring the pursuers to the river at about the time
Philo Marsh struck it. Only Dorothy and her friends were bound to
strike the stream higher up and nearer the point where Lance believed
the dynamite was to be used by the men working for the big mining
corporation.
The puzzle was how Philo Marsh and his crowd could have traveled as
fast as they did, with Mrs. White in the party. Aunt Winnie was a
cautious rider and the boys and Dorothy were ever complaining of her
slowness when they were all out on the range together.
But when the pursuers chanced to cross the trail of the cavalcade they
pursued, the hoofmarks of the ponies showed that they were traveling
fast.
“Goodness!” exclaimed Nat. “She never would ride with us faster than a
toad funeral.”
“That shows she is forced to keep up with them,” Tavia declared, with
conviction.
“Don’t talk about it!” groaned Dorothy. “I only hope those awful men
can be punished for this.”
“Don’t you fret, Miss Dale,” broke in Lance Petterby, grimly. “If Philo
has offered Mrs. White any indignity I dunno but he’ll be hung for it.
The boys’ll be mighty sore--believe me!”
“_That_ would be dreadful, too,” sighed Dorothy.
“Serve him just right, I say!” said Tavia, shortly.
This conversation had been carried on while they were mounting the
steep rise to the plateau formerly described. In ten minutes they were
at the river bank. The ground was of such a nature here that at a
casual glance one could not tell whether horsemen had recently passed,
going up stream, or not.
“Come on!” commanded Lance, waving his hat. “Whether them hombres is
thar, or not, we’ll pull a hot finish.”
The ponies dashed on, following Gaby, as though perfectly fresh. They
thundered on up the very narrow trail the girls had followed that day
they had climbed to the mountain-top.
Suddenly, in a wide opening of the forest-clad plateau, they caught
sight of a number of horsemen ahead. It was Marsh and his companions,
but they got out of sight so quickly that Dorothy could not be sure
that Aunt Winnie was with them.
The cowboys broke into yells of excitement. The ponies dashed forward,
and whether the girls would, or no, they were borne at a desperate pace
right up the trail after the other flying squadron of horses.
“Isn’t it great?” yelled Tavia, as she rode knee to knee with Dorothy.
“I think it is dreadful,” gasped Dorothy.
But Tavia seemed to be enjoying the race to the full. And it _was_ a
race now. Philo Marsh had seen them coming, and without doubt he would
try to do what he had to do, and get it over with, before the pursuers
overtook him.
If the dynamite was ready set, and he could explode it before the
pursuers reached the spot, nothing could put Lost River back into its
course again.
Again and again Dorothy and her companions came in sight of the party
ahead, but the glimpses they obtained were for a moment only.
“They’ve got some hoss-flesh thar,” commented Lance Petterby. “And they
warn’t as fresh in the beginnin’ as ourn--that’s sartain. They been
punishin’ of ’em some, by Jerusha Juniper!”
“I--don’t--see--how--Aunt--ie--can ride so fast!” stammered Dorothy.
“She never did before,” repeated Nat.
The pursuers had not lost hope. The trail over the plateau was twisted,
but almost level. Their horses seemed quite as willing as when they had
started from the ranch-house.
They dashed up the little rise beside the noisy rapids and then the
prospect opened before them for some two miles. Philo Marsh and his
crowd were just ahead. The pursuers could see them quite plainly.
Lance began to yell and beat his pony with his hat. The Mexicans’ yelps
were as shrill as a dog’s howl. The boys and Tavia were caught up by
the excitement, and they shouted, too, but Dorothy remained silent.
She searched the cavalcade ahead for a glimpse of her aunt’s figure.
There _was_ a female in the crowd; but, was it Aunt Winnie?
Surely, that good lady could never have ridden with such abandon--not
even if she had been lashed to her saddle! And this person ahead wore
garments of much more brilliant color than Aunt Winnie had ever been
known to put on.
“That never in the world is Auntie!” cried Dorothy, at last.
Tavia heard her, and flashed her chum a broad smile. Then Tavia urged
her horse on, shouting as the boys shouted.
“You knew it all the time, Tavia Travers!” screamed Dorothy, in anger.
She crowded her own pony close to Tavia’s mount and shook that
irrepressible young person by the arm. Tavia would pay no attention to
her. The end of the race promised to be exciting, and Tavia’s attention
would not be coaxed aside.
They were in sight of the head of the gorge. The men in the lead began
to yell. Evidently they expected to find some of their own kind here.
One of the Mexicans in the party of pursuit whipped a long-barreled
revolver into sight. The herdsmen of Hardin Ranch were not supposed to
carry weapons save at night when riding herd. Lance Petterby saw the
gun and yelled at his follower:
“Put away that gat.! I’ll natcher’ly manhandle any feller that fires a
gun.”
The next moment Ned White uttered a shout. “Hi! that’s not mother with
those fellows. It’s--it’s that Mexican girl, Flores!”
Only a hundred yards separated the two parties. The girl who had ridden
in the midst of the leading crew, suddenly swung her pony to one side,
wheeled him about, and dashed back toward Dorothy and her friends.
“Flores! Flores!” cried Dorothy.
“They blow up! They blow up! Dynamite!” shrieked Flores, waving her
arms excitedly and letting her pony take his course.
Some of the Mexicans held in their ponies. At the warning more than one
desired to keep out of the danger zone. But Lance Petterby drove on,
yelling:
“Not much they won’t set off no dynamite. They ain’t gwine tuh be
_let_.”
Without doubt he would have flung himself the next minute, single
handed, upon the half dozen scoundrels had there not occurred something
quite unexpected. Philo Marsh and his henchmen had leaped from their
horses. They were almost at the head of the gorge. The rock between
where the ground fell away into the chasm, and the brink of the rushing
river, was narrow. It was plain to be seen that a properly set blast
must open a gap into the bank of the river and turn the latter’s course.
Once changed into this gorge which led to the north, it would be very
difficult to shut off the flow of water from the new channel.
Just as Lance was about to throw himself upon the men working for the
mining company, a figure lounged into view before the party. It was
that of a tall, slouching man, and he was heavily and prominently
armed, having a brace of pistols slung about his body outside his
coat. He was smoking a pipe.
“Hank Ledger!” ejaculated Philo Marsh.
“Yep,” drawled the foreman of the Hardin Ranch. “I run off your two
friends this mawnin’. They’d got them holes drilled and the dynamite
sticks set. All they waited for was that ’lectric battery you got thar
in that thar leetle box, Philo.
“But it ain’t no go. I’ve extracted them dynamite sticks an’ they
air soakin’ in the river right now. I tol’ yuh tuh let Miz White
erlone. She’s er mighty able lady and I don’t kalkerlate tuh let no
squirrel-faced, bald-headed feller, with a dyed mustache, interfere
with her consarns. D’ye get me?”
Lance Petterby led the cheering as the party from the Hardin Ranch
reached the scene and heard the foreman’s words. Lance rode right up to
Philo’s pony and knocked the electric battery off the saddle-bow, and
the box was smashed on the ground.
“What you doin’, Petterby?” yelled Marsh.
Lance leaned from his saddle and wagged a finger under the villain’s
nose. “Gimme another word and I’ll smash you like I done your play-toy
yonder. I’m achin’ tuh leave my mark on yuh,” whispered Lance, so that
the girls could not hear him--or, he thought they could not.
“Isn’t he splendid?” cried Tavia to Dorothy. “Lance is a regular
story-book hero.”
But Dorothy wanted to hear Flores’ story. “How did you come to be with
those men, Flores?” she asked the Mexican girl.
“Oh, Señorita! I know--I see--I no can sp’ak da Inglese well, you know,
Señorita. I know dey come here to blow up de river. I run to de beeg
house to tell. Dey ketch me--mak’ me ride wit’ dhem----”
“We get you, Flores,” said Lance, quickly. Then he said something to
the Mexicans in their own tongue and the fellows exchanged fierce
glances and scowled at Philo Marsh, who sneaked away from their
vicinity in quick retreat.
Flores was in tears; but Tavia was still widely smiling. “Oh, dear!”
she sighed. “Wasn’t it fun, Doro--as long as it lasted? I never do
expect to have such a ride again. It was just like one of those moving
picture chases we used to see.”
“Tavia Travers!” exclaimed Dorothy. “I believe you knew all the time
that it wasn’t Aunt Winnie these men had carried off.”
“Well! you might have seen all the colors of the rainbow in her frock,
too, before they first rode out of sight,” said Tavia, her eyes
wickedly dancing. “I never saw Mrs. White sporting very gay colors, my
dear.”
“_But where is Auntie?_”
“She went to lie down, you remember, before ever we went down to
see them burn those poor little calves,” Tavia replied. “She had a
headache. Like enough she fell asleep and did not hear us when we came
back. You called only once for her.”
If never before, Dorothy Dale felt a measure of exasperation at Tavia
which came near causing a falling-out between them. And yet, when
Dorothy stopped to think, she realized that she was at fault in that
she had not searched properly for Aunt Winnie before starting upon this
wild-goose chase.
Then she heard what Nat was saying to Tavia. Nat could always find
something to praise in the latter young person’s conduct, no matter
what she did:
“Say, Tavia! if you hadn’t started this riot about mother being
kidnapped, Hank would have had to face this gang alone. Maybe they
would have _got_ him. You’re all right, Tavia!”
“Thanks, Monsieur!” responded the elfish Tavia, bowing.
“And no knowing what Philo Marsh would have done, had his crowd been in
the majority,” growled Ned, from the other side of the girls. “He looks
ugly enough right now to chew nails.”
But Mr. Marsh had come to the end of his rope. He and his friends
conferred together for only a few moments and then rode slowly away.
“But they may be back with more dynamite, if this place isn’t watched,”
said Ned. “How about it, Mr. Ledger?”
“The boy’s right,” said Lance. “Philo is a regular snake in the grass.”
“That’s what John Dempsey calls him,” said Tavia to Dorothy; but
Dorothy would not speak to her chum just then, for she still felt
aggrieved.
“What yuh want,” said Lance to Hank Ledger, “is somebody tuh patrol
this here river till them Desert City people sign up an’ take charge of
things--if Miz White is goin’ tuh let ’em have the water.”
“Them’s the fellers that’s goin’ to git it,” agreed Hank. “She told
me so. And you air right, Lance--you bein’ the man for the job. I’ll
speak to Miz White about it--if yuh’ll sign on. Sixty a month an’
found--better’n you’re gittin’ now, old boy.”
“I’m on,” agreed the cowpuncher, looking at the two girls slily. But
Dorothy saw the glance, and she was again disturbed. “I got tired of
eatin’ that Chink’s cookin’ over at the Double Chain Outfit, anyhow.
B’sides, I believe I kin git my old lady tuh stay out yere with me for
a spell, an’ I’ll need a raise in wages, Hank.”
They left him there on guard and rode back to the ranch-house. Aunt
Winnie was placidly knitting on the veranda, for Mrs. Ledger had
assured her that her sons and the two girls had ridden off in company
with Lance Petterby and the Mexicans.
But she _was_ excited when she received the report of what had been
done over by Lost River. The way Philo Marsh and his henchmen had
treated Flores could not be overlooked.
Mrs. White wrote to Mr. Jermyn again and this time the lawyer received
the letter. He drove out the next day to the ranch, and after hearing
the particulars of Philo’s attempted raid upon the Lost River water
supply, he advised a settlement of the whole affair to be made at once.
It was discovered that Marsh had circulated the report in Desert
City and among the dry-farmers that the new owners of Colonel
Hardin’s property had already agreed to sell the water-rights to the
Consolidated Ackron Company. As soon as it was made known to the city’s
council that Mrs. White stood ready to carry out the dead Colonel’s
tentative agreement, the city fathers and the farmers came forward
with a proposition and a bond that Lawyer Jermyn advised Mrs. White to
accept.