BELLE ADA’S NERVE
“Then--” Teddy Manley began, and stopped. “I see,” he said after a
minute. “They plugged him, robbed him, and took his bronc.” His voice
was low--bitter. “The spirit of the West! Romance! Well, we can do very
well without that. Blamed cowards!” He clenched his fist. “Why couldn’t
they take his money and call it a day? What did they have
to--murder--him for?”
Roy placed a hand on his brother’s arm.
“Take it easy, boy,” he said slowly. “Talking won’t do a bit of good.
We’ll have to wait and hear his story. Then, perhaps--”
The fire gradually died out of Teddy’s eyes. He realized that his
brother was right, that it would do no bit of good to avenge the wounded
man mentally. There would be time to take up the chase of the highwaymen
after their charge was delivered into the hands of a doctor.
They reached the 8 X 8 without the man regaining consciousness. Mrs.
Ball, a motherly woman who had within her the courage of the plains,
was waiting for them at the door of the ranch house. She hurried forward
as she saw the car pull into the yard.
“Where is he?” she exclaimed, although she plainly observed the figure
in the rear. “Now, then--”
Bug Eye brought the car to a stop and Mrs. Ball fairly leaped to the
running board.
“The poor soul! The poor soul! The doctor will be here any minute. I
sent the girls upstairs and told them to stay there. This is no sight
for them. Bug Eye, you take them horses to the back. All right, boys,
bring him into the front room. I fixed the cot.” She looked again at the
sunken cheeks of the old man. “Ah, the poor soul!” she muttered. “He’s
going to have a bad time of it!”
Carefully the Manley boys lifted the sufferer out and bore him into the
house. Nell and Ethel, wide-eyed, were leaning over the banisters. Belle
Ada was sitting composedly on the top step. She saw Roy, and noticed the
cut on his forehead.
“I’m going down,” she announced definitely. Wisely, she said nothing to
the others of her brother’s injury. “You two stay here. No use crowding
around him.”
Nell nodded, rather white of face. She had no wish to view the
proceedings from a closer point.
Belle walked down the stairs calmly and when the man had been laid on
the cot she approached Roy.
“What happened to you?” she asked in a low voice.
He turned swiftly.
“Nothing of any account, Sis,” he answered. “Tell you later. I got hurt
a little trying to catch Nell’s bronc. Say, you’d better get some water
boiling.”
Belle started toward the kitchen without a word. She was not unused to
emergencies.
Mrs. Ball was doing all in her power to make the man comfortable. As the
two boys stood there, contemplating the figure on the cot, the front
door opened and the doctor entered, followed by Mr. Ball.
One glance Peter Ball took at the wounded man.
“Stranger,” he said briefly. “Miner, from his clothes. All right, doc,
he’s yours. We’re waitin’.”
The doctor, a young chap but newly arrived in that section, seemed a
trifle nervous. He set his bag on the floor and opened it. The moment he
started to work, however, his nervousness disappeared. His entire
thought was concentrated on the case before him.
“Boiling water,” he said sharply. “Where is it? Should have been
ready!”
“It is,” a girl’s voice replied. “Here.”
Belle handed him a kettle and placed a basin at his side. Strangely
enough, although the young doctor had scarcely looked at the others in
the room, he glanced swiftly up at Belle and smiled.
“Thanks,” he said. “I didn’t mean to speak shortly. But I’ve got to work
fast.”
The bandage about the man’s neck was removed and a thick stream of blood
welled out. Mrs. Ball grew white, and leaned against her husband.
“I guess--after all--” she faltered.
“Out you go, honey, with me,” Peter Ball said simply. “This ain’t for
you. There’s enough in here as it is.” He led her to the stairs and up.
The doctor looked swiftly about him. “I need some one--” he began, and
fixed his gaze on Belle.
“Could I?” she asked eagerly. “I’m not afraid, you know.”
“I know you’re not,” was the quiet reply. “Now, boys, if you’ll just
leave us alone for a while--I could work better. Mind?”
“Sure not!” Teddy answered heartily. He watched his sister for a moment,
then turned to Roy. “Let’s go,” he said softly. “Belle is all right.”
They walked across the room and out of the door. Bug Eye was leaning
against the railing, his eyes wide with anticipation.
“How is he? Find out who he was? Is he hurt bad? How much was he robbed
of? Say, I bet--”
“Get a cinch-strap on that tongue of yours,” Roy said calmly. “Feels
like a wind coming up.”
“Aw, but listen,” the puncher protested. “I want to know--”
“So do we,” Teddy interrupted. “But we don’t, yet. The doc’s in there
fixing him up. By the way, Roy, when he comes out--” Teddy nodded
significantly.
“Forget it!” his brother exclaimed. “You mean this scratch? I can’t tell
it’s there.”
“Say, jingo, I never noticed that!” Bug Eye declared excitedly. “They
get you too, Roy?” The puncher at this moment resembled a small boy who
has just seen a circus wagon tip over. “When did that happen? The blamed
polecats! Well, scorch my pants--”
“Switch over--you’re on the wrong track,” Roy said, with a grin. “This
has got nothing to do with--him.” He jerked an expressive thumb. “I fell
into the river and struck a rock. Teddy helped pull me out. That’s why
we’re both rather damp. That’s all!”
“Oh,” said Bug Eye weakly. “I see.”
“Well, you old galoot!” Teddy cried. “I actually believe you’re
disappointed! I bet you’d rather have him shot, wouldn’t you? Say, you
have a fine nerve!”
“That ain’t so!” Bug Eye protested. “I thought maybe--”
“I know. I was only kidding,” Teddy said in a lower voice. “But we have
other things to worry about now. I’d like to find out how much he was
robbed of, if he was robbed.” He walked toward the corral, a little
distance from the ranch house. “Let’s sit,” he suggested, and climbed to
the top rail.
Roy and Bug Eye followed Teddy’s example.
“Say, one of the boys is fixin’ your bronc up,” Bug Eye said suddenly.
“He’s got quite a few scratches, Roy.”
“I’m going to have a look,” the boy said quickly. “Be back soon.” He
jumped to the ground.
Teddy and Bug Eye watched him go.
“He’ll go an’ do the very same thing to Star that Jules Kolto just did,”
Bug Eye said musingly. “Sure loves that bronc. Well, Teddy?”
“You want the story?” Teddy answered, grinning. “It isn’t very long. Roy
and I were coming in from capturing the pony that Nell got spilled from.
As we were passing those woods, we heard a yell. Then a shot. Then we
found him. The rest you know.” He said nothing about his rescue of Roy,
believing, and rightly, that Bug Eye was too excited over the wounded
man to make any inquiries.
“Say, you think he’s gonna cash in?” the puncher demanded.
Teddy shook his head.
“Can’t say. I sure hope not. But he’s got a mighty bad wound--right
through the neck. How the bullet missed the jugular vein I don’t see. He
sure had Providence looking after him.”
“Old guy, ain’t he? Looks like a miner. Think he’s any relation to Pop
Burns?”
“Oh, you noticed it too, did you? He certainly looks enough like him to
be his brother. Wonder what his name is?”
“Maybe we’ll never know that.” Bug Eye kicked somberly at a lower rail.
“It’ll be bad business if he cashes in his checks.”
“Forget that kind of talk,” Teddy said sharply. “I have an idea that
he’ll pull through.” He hesitated a moment. “Say, what’s the doc’s
name?”
“Ring, I think. Don’t know his first name. Seems like a good feller.”
“He does, for a fact.” Teddy examined his thumb carefully. “Hope Belle
won’t get sick, helping him. She’s not so old to be doing that sort of
thing.”
“Belle is plenty there,” Bug Eye exclaimed decidedly, if not too
clearly. “She won’t welsh.”
“Anyhow, I’ll take a look and see,” Teddy said suddenly. “I think it
would be all right to go in now.”
He and Bug Eye climbed to the ground and started for the house. As they
neared the entrance, Belle appeared at the door. Her cheeks were a
little pale, but, otherwise, she was perfectly composed.
“He’s conscious,” she said clearly. “And Doctor Ring says he has a good
chance. Where’s Roy?”
“Looking after Star. How do you feel, Belle? Did you--”
She shook her head.
“Didn’t bother me in the least. I’m thirteen, you know--almost fourteen.
Say, Teddy, you and Roy are wanted inside.” She held the door open. “The
man who was hurt has been asking for you.”