THE ROUND-UP
When Mason arrived at the Ricker ranch in his racer there was an
ominous silence about the place that confirmed his worst fears. He
knew the girls must have arrived at the ranch ahead of him, but seeing
no signs of life about the place he left his motor running and
sprinted for the house.
Just as he threw the door open he heard a piercing scream followed by
a revolver shot that appeared to come from the depths of the cellar.
He drew his revolver and fired an answering shot. He dashed madly down
the stairs leading to the cellar where he found himself in pitch
darkness. Sounds of a struggle reached his ears as he blindly felt his
way along the cellar. He cursed his stupidity for not thinking to have
brought along a light of some kind.
The sounds of a struggle had abruptly ceased and a deathly silence
prevailed. Too late!
He had traversed the entire length of the cellar and was about to
start a search of the secret passage when he heard a number of shots
fired in rapid succession.
Soon after, to his dismay, his engine stopped running. In desperation
he raced back through the cellar and collided with a man who had just
started to come down the cellar stairs.
A fierce battle ensued between them, Mason’s adversary striving to
bring his revolver butt down on his head. The fellow wore a mask and
after repeated attempts Mason succeeded in tearing it off.
The gunman was a stranger to him. Mason redoubled his efforts and
backheeling the man, threw him downstairs. The delay had proved
costly, however, and when he got out to his car he found the gasoline
tank punctured with bullet holes. In the distance a party of horsemen
with Josephine, Ethel and Percy in their midst were riding hard for
the foothills.
“Oh, hell,” he swore to himself as he leaned dejectedly against his
useless racer. “I’m some rescuer, I don’t think. Why didn’t Trent
Burton’s message come through sooner. The news two weeks old and those
cut-throats at large all this time. I think now that the four riders
Gaylor and I saw that day were just a scouting party of Ricker’s. Yes,
and the rifle shot that blew my tire out was some of their dirty work
too. Lucky the bullet hit a tire instead of one of the girls, but it
wasn’t their fault that it didn’t.”
The thought of the girls’ plight nerved him to swift action and he set
out to search the premises for a horse. He wondered what had become of
the two cowboys who were in charge of the ranch. His mind was
bordering on a state of frenzy after he had searched the corral and
failed to find a horse.
About a hundred yards from the corral lay the bunk-house. It was a
large building and Mason noticed there was a small shed attached to
the far corner of it. Something impelled him to look the building
over, and it was well that he did so. Upon entering the bunk-house he
found the two guards. They were bound and gagged and tied to one of
the bed posts. Mason liberated them, after which he stood regarding
them with scorn.
“Well, you’re a fine pair of huskies, I must say,” he said
contemptuously. “Hell’s to pay about this ranch, and here I find you
two cowboys trussed up like two fine turkeys. Both girls carried off
by Ricker and his gang of cut-throats and no one here to stop them.
How did it happen, anyway?” he wound up savagely.
Both cowboys had been spare hands at the Bar X ranch, and Mason felt
that Bud had made a mistake in not placing more competent men in
charge of the Ricker ranch. His own choice would have been the two
fire eaters, Scotty Campbell and Red Sullivan.
“Don’t be too hard on us, boss,” one of the cowboys pleaded. “It
happened this way. Bob, here, rode over to the Post for supplies right
after I came in off the range. Just after he had left and got out of
sight somebody sneaked up behind me and cracked me over the head. When
I came to my senses I found Bob tied up alongside of me. I didn’t have
a chance, pard, honest I didn’t.”
“I got served the same way,” the cowboy named Bob spoke up. “I met the
girls and the young fellow at the Post, and Miss Josephine said they
were coming on to the ranch. I left quite a spell ahead of them and
got served the same as Jim here.”
“So it seems,” Mason said sarcastically. “You fellows can square
yourself to a certain extent if you will dig me up a horse.”
“That’s easy,” Bob spoke up eagerly, “my horse is tied in the shed at
the end of the bunk-house, and Jim’s horse is there too.”
“All right,” Mason answered curtly, “I’ll take one of them and when
you get a chance, tow my machine to Trader’s Post and have the
gasoline tank repaired. The tank is shot full of holes and I will have
to depend on you cowboys to see that it is fixed and send the bill on
to me at Bar X ranch. I expect some of Bud’s men will be here before
long, and by the way, I knocked one of Ricker’s men down cellar. You
might go and see if he’s there yet, and hand him over to Bud’s men
when they come along.”
Quickly he looked the cowboys’ horses over and picking out the better
one he set out rapidly for Bar X ranch. On the way he met a detachment
of Bud’s men led by Big Joe Turner. They had been ordered to report at
the Ricker ranch and would be joined by Bud the next day. Big Joe
informed him that a general alarm had been sent out and that the
Gaylor brothers had been notified. A fast rider had been dispatched to
their ranch and they were expected at Bar X the next morning. Mason
related all that had happened at the Ricker ranch and gave as his
judgment that there were eight men in Ricker’s gang.
There was a general tightening of belts and a savage glitter in the
men’s eyes as he told his story. Josephine was a popular idol with the
men of Bar X and it would go hard with her captors if they should fall
into these cowboys’ hands.
Mason bid them good luck and pressed on. It was late at night when he
arrived at Bar X, but he immediately sought out Bud and they held a
long consultation.
They planned to send out a detachment of cowboys the next morning and
another one in the afternoon.
In all, there were to be three detachments of cowboys who were to
relay each other in turn.
“What gets me,” Mason said in perplexity, “is why Trent Burton didn’t
get word through to us sooner.”
“I forgot to tell you that I received another message from him while
you was away,” Bud said with a look of wonder in his eyes. “He
explained in this last message that the jail officials tried their
best to locate him, but he was away on a case at the time. The message
was brought to me by a rider just an hour after I received the first
one. He sure is a wonder and is a strange man. Here, read this last
message yourself.”
“Talking about me?” an amiable voice said over their shoulder.
Both men jumped to their feet in astonishment. They were sitting in a
little room used as an office of the ranch house.
“For God’s sake, Trent Burton!” Bud stared at him.
“How did you get here?”
“Why, it was very simple, I assure you,” the strange man answered
blandly. “The door was partly open and I merely walked in. I repeat,
were you talking about me?”
“We sure were,” Mason answered. He had recovered in a measure from his
astonishment.
“Well, you know the old saying, speak of the devil and you hear his
wings.”
“You must have wings at that,” Bud retorted; “what I want to know is
how you arrived at this ranch so soon after wiring me?”
“First part, special train; second part, fast automobile. Fast
automobile is outside this minute. Now that I have cleared myself,
what has my estimable friend Ricker been doing since he broke loose? I
see where I have all my work to do over again.”
Briefly they told him of the counterfeiter’s latest outrage, and all
three sat up till a late hour perfecting plans for the morrow.
There was little sleep for Mason that night, and the morning found him
worn and haggard. Trent Burton had taken absolute charge and already
one group of fighting men had left the ranch to join Big Joe Turner at
the Ricker ranch. Mason wanted to leave with them, but the Marshal
wouldn’t listen to his pleading.
“Stick with me, man, and brace up,” he said kindly. “I want all the
brainy men with me. There is still another outfit to go before we
start, and in our group will be such men as Bud, fire-eating Scotty,
Red, Tex, Buck Miller and yourself. The Gaylor ranch has sent over ten
men and Bruce Gaylor is coming with the rest. We will need all the men
we can get to beat the mountains and surround the outlaws.”
Mason was silently turning the events of the past twenty-four hours
over in his mind.
“This is going to be a delicate mission,” the Marshal continued, “and
at the least sign of a slip-up on our part, that beast will butcher
those girls. Ricker is a desperate man and I am waiting for him to
show his hand. He knows that I will be sent after him, and the fact
that he has the girls and Percy in his power forces me to move with
caution. I have a suspicion that he will try to get word through to us
as to his demands. That is the reason why I am in no hurry to take to
the mountains, and I want you to be here when that word comes. Rest
content that the girls will be safe, for I am convinced that his first
demand will be for money.”
An hour later the next section left in charge of the Gaylor brothers.
When noon came, Mason was almost going mad at his inaction. He was
electrified five minutes later when Scotty came to the house with news
that a dispatch rider was waiting for him at the bunk-house. He
hastened down and the message was placed in his hands. It was from
Josephine and was written at the command of Ricker. The demand was for
money with a warning not to try to find the girls under penalty of
their death. If they agreed to pay over the amount of money demanded
in the dispatch, Ricker would see that the prisoners were set free.
He stipulated in the message that they would be given forty-eight
hours to decide, and at the expiration of that time, if a messenger
did not arrive at Duke Williams’ place at Smoky Point, the prisoners
would be killed.
It closed with a warning to Mason and Bud that any attempt to capture
Ricker’s agent at Duke Williams’ hotel would result in the girls’
death.
The message was written in Josephine’s own handwriting.
“Where did you get this message?” Mason asked, looking sharply at the
rider.
“It was given me at the station by a stranger and I was paid well to
deliver it to you,” the rider answered simply.
“There will be no answer,” Mason said shortly, dismissing him.
He kept turning the envelope over in his hand. On one corner there was
drawn the picture of a butterfly, and it puzzled him. Hunting up the
Marshal he turned the message over to him.
The latter read it, then gave a long whistle.
“So, he has shown his hand at last,” was his comment; “whew! a cool
million he wants. Modest in his demands, isn’t he?”
“What puzzles me,” Mason replied, “is what that butterfly means on the
corner of the envelope.”
The Marshal looked it over carefully.
“Just merely the whim of a girl,” he said at length.
“I don’t believe it,” Mason protested warmly. “Josephine drew that
picture on there for a purpose, and I would stake my life on it.”
“There may be a reason for the picture at that,” the Marshal replied
thoughtfully; “well, anyway, the counterfeiter has shown his hand, and
now I can work with light ahead.”
The Marshal’s forces were to start within an hour.
Mason with Red Sullivan and Scotty were looking over their guns at the
bunk-house.
Tex, a short distance away from them, was watching an object in the
sky. Finally he called Red over to where he stood, and Red in turn
called Mason over to them.
“Shure, Jack, and isn’t that a devil of a big bird?” the Irishman
asked, pointing to the sky.
Mason looked up and stared at the object which was looming up larger
to their vision each minute.
“That’s an airplane,” he said at last in wonderment.
“Holy Saints!” Red cried, crossing himself, “and may the devil fly
away with it!”
Mason could plainly hear the humming of the motor now, and he took off
his hat and waved it excitedly.
“Tex, call Trent Burton to come here at once,” he said, a glad ring to
his voice. “Red, I’ll bet your old red head, that’s my friend Roy
Purvis the aviator, from New York.”
The airplane came down in graceful spirals and made a landing a short
distance from the corral. Mason rushed over and the aviator offered
him a languid hand which Mason shook heartily.
“Roy, you’re just the man I want to see,” he cried, “you dropped out
of the sky just in time.”
“I’ll say I did, I was all out of gasoline, you know,” the aviator
answered, leaning languidly back in his seat gazing interestedly at
the cowboys who stood looking him and the airplane over in
open-mouthed wonder.
“Am I welcome?” Roy questioned, turning his attention again to Mason.
“Certainly you’re welcome. What makes you think you wouldn’t be
welcome to Bar X ranch?” Mason demanded.
“Well, be a good fellow and help unstrap me from this confounded seat,
and when we get to the house I’ll tell you,” he answered whimsically.
Mason called one of the cowboys over to assist him. In a small
compartment back of the aviator’s seat was his luggage. It consisted
of four suitcases and a black object resembling a tank about the size
of a suitcase. Roy took especial charge of this black tank.
“Why all these warlike preparations?” he queried, noticing the
bristling guns of the cowboys. “Looks like I had dropped into a
fighting man’s country for fair.”
“I’ll explain the whole business to you when we get to the house and
you have had some refreshments,” Mason answered.
“Hang the refreshments,” Roy growled, with another puzzled look at the
cowboys with their revolvers and saddle guns.
At the house, after having been introduced all around, he surprised
Mason by asking him if there was a dark room in the house.
“No,” the latter answered with a blank look, “but I think we could rig
you up one.”
“Friends,” the aviator said with a look into their anxious faces, “I
can see that you are in some kind of trouble, and from a hint that my
friend Mason dropped, I think I can help you out. Just rig me up that
dark room, Jack, and I will show you something that will surprise
you.”
“There is a small closet in my room and you can use it,” Mason said
quickly.
Taking the mysterious black tank with him the aviator left them and
was in the room for a half hour. When he came out he held a number of
films in his hands.
“Before I join these films together,” he said to his mystified
audience, “I want to tell you of a little incident that happened to me
this morning. Starting from a town about a hundred miles from here,
and depending entirely on my compass, for I had no idea where the Bar
X ranch lay, I crossed the railroad track at a point fifty miles below
here.
“If you remember, there was a slight mist this morning, making it
difficult to distinguish objects unless I flew quite low. Knowing I
had a good supply of gasoline I opened the engine up wide and flew at
a high altitude and drifted aimlessly in the hope that the mist would
soon clear away.
“My wish was soon granted, but, to my surprise, I found myself flying
over your wonderful mountains and hopelessly lost. Bringing the
airplane around, I determined to cruise in the opposite direction.
“Flying at a lower altitude, I was surprised to see a group of men
directly under me. The place was an ideal spot to land, and shutting
off the engine I began to make spirals, at the same time taking this
series of films you see in my hand.
“One of the men commenced to fire a revolver at me, and thinking it
wouldn’t be healthy to land among them, I started my engine. After
much difficulty, I succeeded in reaching this ranch. I didn’t know
what ranch it was, but for once I was lucky.”
The aviator joined the films together and held them out to their
startled eyes. It was a complete picture of the counterfeiter’s
retreat in the mountains and showed the two girl prisoners!
“This is wonderful,” the Marshal exclaimed. “Bud, do you think you
have a man that can locate this place?”
“I know right where it is,” Bud replied, breathing heavily. “It is
dead easy to find, but hard to get at. It can be taken all right, but
if we force the position, they are sure to kill the girls.”
Mason was making a close examination of the films.
A semicircle of rock showed plainly, and as near as he could judge,
about two hundred yards back from this semicircle there was a flat
table rock, backed by a cliff that rose hundreds of feet in the air.
A cabin, showing the two girls outside looking up at the sky, was
plainly visible.
Mason called Bud over to him.
“Bud, you say you know where this place is?” he questioned him.
The latter nodded.
“And the only point of attack is this semicircle of rock,” Mason
continued, “and if we rush that point there is nothing to prevent
Ricker from killing the girls before we could get to them.”
“That’s just the way I figure it out,” Bud agreed.
“Well, I have a plan that has a chance of success,” Mason said grimly.
“If we should pay those cutthroats the money they demand, we are not
sure they will keep their word about delivering the prisoners safely
to us. We have just got to go in and get them.
“My plan is to dynamite this semicircle of rock, then rush in and get
the girls before Ricker’s men can recover from their surprise. They
are sure to guard that point every minute. Let me have Scotty to draw
their fire while I lay the blasting charge. They know what a reckless
daredevil Scotty is and as I will keep out of sight they will think he
is attacking them single-handed, and they will all be busy trying to
pick him off. When the blasting charge goes off you can rush the
position and capture them before they recover from their surprise.”
“That’s a good plan, lad,” the Marshal said with an approving glance
at him. “We will arrange to arrive at their mountain retreat at five
o’clock tomorrow morning. It won’t do to make the attack at night, for
if anything went wrong they could kill the prisoners before we knew
it. I’ll send Jean Barry to the Ricker ranch with my automobile, and
have Big Joe get all the men together. Our party will join them there
in time to reach the counterfeiter’s stronghold by five o’clock
to-morrow morning.”
“Jack, have the cowboys take their horses along with them to the
ranch, and I will take you there in my airplane,” Roy cut in.
Mason looked at his watch.
“That will be fine,” he said. “It is just one P.M. and I won’t have to
start from here until about five o’clock if I go by airplane. We are
all to meet at the Ricker ranch and make a start from there some time
during the night. The Marshal and Bud have the trip timed so we will
reach the counterfeiter’s stronghold early in the morning and take
them by surprise.”
Mason and Roy laid a plan for the latter to be in the vicinity of the
mountain retreat, and after Mason had set off the explosive charge and
a successful rescue was accomplished, Roy was to carry the glad news
by airplane to the girls’ anxious parents.
They put in some of the time going over the airplane and getting it in
order. The Marshal and Bud had left with the last cowboys, and at five
o’clock Mason and Roy started their flight. In a short time they had
overtaken and passed the Marshal’s riders.
Arriving at the Ricker ranch they made a safe landing and immediately
turned in to get a little rest.
Mason’s sleep was fitful, and he was glad when aroused by the Marshal
and told that the hour had struck.
The dynamite with wire and a battery was given to him, and Scotty was
carefully rehearsed in the part he was to play. The moon was shining
as the grim riders formed and set out rapidly for the foothills.
Sunrise found them concealed at the base of the outlaws’ stronghold.
Mason and Scotty began their perilous climb to the semicircle of rock.
It was thought to be utterly impossible to approach closer than a
hundred yards to the stronghold without being challenged by the
guards. It was the brave Scot’s duty to open fire the minute he was
challenged and attract the outlaws’ attention while Mason was to crawl
to a position where he could place the charge of dynamite to the best
advantage.
When the charge was planted he was to set it off, while the Marshal
was to hurl his men on the outlaws before they could recover from
their surprise.
They had climbed to within seventy-five yards of the strongly guarded
point, when a sharp command to halt rang out. Scotty recklessly
exposed himself to view for an instant and received a bullet through
the crown of his hat. Flattening his body against the rocks, he opened
a hot fire in reply. Mason continued to crawl ahead fast, but
cautiously, working slightly around to the right. The outlaws sent a
hail of bullets down past Scotty, which the Scot returned with
interest, still keeping up his pretense of attack.
Mason worked up so close that he could see the outlaws answering
Scotty’s shots with their rifles. He carefully placed the dynamite
charge and dropped swiftly down the ledge with wire and battery. At a
safe distance from the deadly charge he turned the switch of the
battery. A tremendous explosion followed.
Amid falling rocks, Scotty came racing over to him, and together they
scrambled up the cliff and into the outlaws’ stronghold.
The outlaws were wild with excitement and Jim Haley was trying to
rally them when a bullet from Scotty’s gun put him out of action.
Mason and Scotty dropped down behind a rock just as a volley of
bullets whistled over their heads.
Ricker rallied his men and firing rapidly he gave a yell of defiance.
Seeing that he had but two men behind the rock to deal with, he called
to his men and they started to rush in upon them.
Pieces of rock and dirt were filling the eyes of Mason and Scotty as
they crouched behind the rock and their position was getting perilous
as they couldn’t return the fire without exposing themselves.
As the outlaws charged across the open, a bullet caught Ricker in the
side and he reeled, his gun in the air.
Bud and Trent Burton were in the fight and the latter had cut loose
with his deadly automatics!
Sorely wounded, the counterfeiter turned and bringing his gun down,
emptied it point blank at his hated foe. Trent Burton’s guns were
trained on him and were spitting a steady stream of lead.
The counterfeiter’s knees began to sag and his shots went wild.
Josephine and Ethel stood at the cabin door, their faces white with
fear.
Overhead, Roy’s airplane motor was humming in harmony with the
cracking of the guns. Mason stood up from behind the rock as he saw
the halfbreed Mexican start with a yell toward the girls’ cabin.
Mason shouted a warning to the girls and turned his smoking gun on the
halfbreed. At the third shot the Mexican fell, and Mason rushed over
and clasped his sister in his arms.
When the fight was over, Percy was found tied securely in the outlaws’
cabin.
Ricker was dying and Jim Haley and Nick Cover were severely wounded.
The Mexican was brought into the outlaws’ cabin and breathed his last
while Trent Burton was examining his wound.
The Marshal arranged to have Mason and Bud leave at once with the
girls, and when they arrived at the Ricker ranch, Mason was to take
the Marshal’s automobile and drive them to Bar X ranch.
“Some round-up,” the Marshal observed to Bud as they parted. “I wanted
to take Ricker alive, but he was trying to get me, so it was his life
or mine.”
“Yes, and I had to pin Spot Wells just as he was drawing a bead on
Scotty,” Bud replied regretfully.