CONCLUSION
Hippy heard. Hi, farther away, heard. Both ran through the bushes.
Anne, Nora, and Emma sped to the stream.
Hippy and Elfreda were searching the bottom of the stream, which
was not more than three feet deep. Hi stopped them and asked
Elfreda to tell what she knew.
"Both hands were thrust through the fall like this," and Elfreda
thrust her own hands through the sheet of water. "I was looking at
the map when I heard her scream. Looking up, she had disappeared."
Lang nodded and plunged through the waterfall. Those on the
outside heard a shot, followed almost instantly by a second one.
At the sound Elfreda and Hippy plunged through the fall. Near the
base of the fall was no wall of rock behind the water. Instead, a
tunnel-like cave led into the mountain. Elfreda gasped and Hippy
looked in amazement. Grace lay on the floor of the cave and Hi
Lang had a man flown and was beating him, while a little girl was
trying to aid the man by striking Hi over the head and shoulders
with a stick.
Wingate snatched the stick from her. The child shrank back, and
Hi, realizing that he was going too far, ceased beating the man.
"The fellow struck Mrs. Gray with the butt of a revolver, I
reckon, then shot at me. I put a bullet through his shoulder and we
clinched. How's Mrs. Gray, Miss Briggs?"
"I'll have her around in a few minutes," answered Elfreda
confidently. "Who's the man and what is he?"
"Some crazy loon. Strong as a giant, too. Here, you!" to the child
reaching toward the man's revolver that lay on the floor. "I'll
take that. Is this man your father?"
The child nodded.
"What's your name, kid?"
"Lindy Silver."
"He grabbed my hands and jerked me into the cave. Then he struck
me," explained Grace, who had opened her eyes and now sat up.
"The scoundrel!" exclaimed Hi, jerking the man to his feet.
At Hi Lang's suggestion, Hippy and the two girls went up to the
camp. It was an hour later when the guide joined them.
"The fellow's name is not Silver. He's Steve Carver," Hi informed
his hearers. "He's loony. He didn't say so, but he thinks he has a
claim that's valuable. He declared, too, that we're here to rob
him and threatened to get us if we didn't move on at once."
"Was it he who put the paper on the yucca tree?" questioned
Elfreda.
"No, he didn't do that."
"Then we have other foes," said Grace slowly.
"What a shame to let Lindy live like a wild animal," broke in
Elfreda.
"Perhaps we can do something for her," responded Grace.
Just then a revolver, fired close at hand, sent a bullet a few
inches from Nora's head. Then came a rattling fire of rifle shots.
The rifle bullets were going high, possibly due to the fact that
they were being fired from a point higher than the camp.
The men, armed only with revolvers, had gone from the camp at the
revolver shot.
"Quick, Elfreda!" cried Grace. "Rifles and ammunition for all. For
Hi and Hippy, too. We're being attacked!"
"Him come along," chirped Ping Wing, trotting up to Elfreda with a
rifle in either hand and two belts of ammunition.
"Take them to the men," ordered Elfreda.
Grace took command of her Overland Riders and placed them at
advantageous points out of sight behind rocks and bushes. From her
own position Grace saw a head and a pair of shoulders above them
on the ridge and a rifle aimed toward the spot where Anne was
stationed.
Before the fellow could fire there was a report near at hand.
"Got him!" exclaimed the guide.
"Now we'll get it!" muttered Grace.
They did. Bullets from the ridge above them rained on the foliage
and the rocks about the campers, but so far none was hurt, though
they could tell that several of the attackers received bullet
wounds when raising their own rifles in order to fire.
Creeping closer to Hi Lang, Grace held a whispered consultation,
suggesting to him that they try to flank their opponents and to
drive them toward the camp where it would be possible to capture
them. This was agreed to, but at Elfreda's suggestion they decided
to wait until darkness fell.
When night came there was shooting from the ridge, but the return
fire came only from one rifle, that of Ping Wing. Even this ceased
in about half an hour, but by that time the Overlanders met in the
rear of the party on the ridge. Here they spread out and began to
move cautiously toward the camp, hoping to come upon their
attackers, either singly or together, and drive them before them.
Grace had gone a short distance when she saw a man rise suddenly
about ten feet in front of her. Without a sound she rose and,
slipping her revolver to her left hand, grasped her lasso with her
right. It was a true throw, and the rope fell over the man's
shoulders, pinning his arms to his sides. Without a moment's
hesitation, the girl snubbed the lasso about a tree and, holding
it firmly, fired three signal shots into the air.
The man was heavy, and the best Grace could do was to keep the
rope taut, taking up the slack when the fellow tried to roll
toward her to loosen the strain.
"I'll get you for this!" raged the ruffian.
"Keep quiet or I'll get you first."
Rifles began to bang toward the camp. Three sides were engaged, so
it seemed to Grace, judging by the sound. What was the meaning of
that?
The sound of voices presently reached her ears. The prisoner
heard, too, and began, to stir.
"Keep quiet!" ordered Grace. "One sound from you and I will shoot.
Understand?"
"Yes," he muttered, and sank back.
Grace strained her ears. Were the men of her party or of that of
the roped villain? To her relief the men--apparently only two of
them--passed by without discovering her and her prisoner, and he,
intimidated, kept quiet.
Suddenly a loud, penetrating "Coo-e-e-e-e!" woke the echoes of the
mountains. It was the call of the cowboy, a friendly, thrilling
sound.
A moment of silence, then "Overla-a-a-and!"
"Overla-a-a-and!" cried Grace joyfully. "Careful, man. I can yell
and shoot at the same time," she told her prisoner, who had moved.
Two men came running over the rocks.
"Mrs. Gray!" shouted the guide.
"Here! Careful! I have a prisoner!"
"Hullo, kid," cried a familiar voice.
"That's Bud Thomas's voice! The man who gave me this lasso,"
answered Grace, laughing joyously, if a bit hysterically.
"Sure, it's me. And a lot of the other boys!"
The two men came over to Grace's side.
"Hello, kid. You're a smart one. That fellow's Snake McGlory, the
hombre we boys came out to get."
The fighting was over, for the members of McGlory's gang, for such
they were, were captured, some of them wounded.
"Steve Carver got his," said Lang, on the way back to camp, the
two men seeing that McGlory went quietly. "He was the fellow who
shot at us and some of this man's gang got him, probably thinking
he was one of our outfit."
"Oh, poor little Lindy!" murmured Grace.
Back at the camp Grace had to tell her story.
"And I caught him because you boys gave me that lasso. Wasn't I
thankful that I had the rope and had learned to use it! But how
did you boys happen to come along?"
It seemed, according to Bud's story, that Belle Bates, the wife of
the bandit whom Grace had wounded when he attacked the Overland
Riders on the Apache Trail the summer before was the sister of
Snake McGlory. It was she, bent on vengeance, who had instigated
the trailing of the party and the attack on them. Snake and his
gang were delighted with their task. Through a girl of Shoshone
Pete's whom Belle liked and confided in, the cowboys had learned
of the plan and set forth to prevent its accomplishment.
The prisoners were taken to the county seat, and in time received
prison sentences for their many crimes in the countryside.
Hi Lang spent some hours in the cave, and when he came back told
the girls that Carver had not been "loony" after all, for in the
cave he found silver, and, time proved, a considerable vein.
Lindy grieved over her father's death. But the Overland Riders
took her in charge, first registering the mine in her name,
inducing HI Lang to see to it that it was later worked. The child
was sent to school, the Overland Riders being appointed her
guardians by the court.
"But now we are to head for home," said Grace, leaning over her
camp outfit.
"Ping Wing is pleased over that prospect. Listen to his song,"
laughed Elfreda.
All stopped their work to watch the Chinaman pack his stores,
singing as he did so:
"Supposey you makee listen to my singee one piecee sing.
Me makee he first-chop fashion, about the glate Ping Wing;
He blavest man in desert side, or any side about;
Me bettee you five dolla', HAI! ha blavest party out."
THE END