A THRILLING RESCUE.
Cursing and howling in fury, to think that they had again been
outwitted by the Midnight Raider, the cowboys pumped shell after shell
at the fleeing horseman.
As before, he seemed to ride unscathed through the leaden hail--and
their inability to hit the horseman only added to their anger.
Dude and Grouch had raced out onto the plains in the futile attempt to
overtake the fugitive on foot. But at last they even gave up shooting
at him.
“What’ll old Slippery Nig say to us _now_, I wonder?” exclaimed
the owner of the Star and Moon, as they stood gazing after their
fast-disappearing foe.
“He won’t have the chance to say anything if we don’t hike out of here
mighty quick,” returned Bowser.
“Come on, men, run to the South for your lives!”
This command recalled the fire to the avengers for the first time since
they were made aware that the Midnight Raider had tricked them.
Gazing toward it, they realized they were in greater danger than they
had ever been from Scalping Louie.
By leaps and bounds, it seemed to be sweeping down upon them, its
billows of smoke already causing them to cough and choke.
“Turn your heads to the open plains and run low!” shouted Hawks. “Two
hundred yards will bring us beyond the edge of the wall of flame. The
wind is already driving it more to the North!”
Desperately the cowboys put forth every bit of their strength in
frantic effort to reach the zone of safety. And each thought only of
himself.
As a result, it was not until they had gained a spot behind the
death-dealing wall of flame that they gave thought to one another.
But, when they did, they found that one of their number was missing!
“Where’s Sam?” demanded Dude, looking from one to another of his
fellows, in alarm.
For a moment, the thought that one of their band had fallen prey to the
inexorable fire, filled them with horror.
“He must have fallen,” murmured Hawks.
“Shall we go back, for him?” asked Grouch.
“And lose your life, too? No. One life is enough to give to that
raiding devil without sacrificing another in a useless attempt. Some
of us should have thought of giving Sam assistance, seeing that he
was unable to take care of himself because of the wounds made by the
lariats when we dragged him from the mudhole. But it’s no use to try
to save him now. We don’t know where he fell, and the smoke is already
upon him. Poor fellow!”
Though they accepted the decision of the ranchman, realizing that it
would, indeed, be madness for any one on foot to attempt the rescue,
the thought of the man they so revered meeting such an horrible fate
was more than they could bear, and, seemingly with one accord, they
faced away from the wall of flames and threw themselves into the grass
that they might not see the fire sweep up the plains--and devour the
owner of the Double Cross ranch.
But, even as they despaired, expecting every instant to hear the
agonized shriek that would announce the rush of the flames upon Bowser,
help was speeding to him by leaps and bounds!
When Sandy had been advised by Ki Yi to take Mrs. Hawks to the Double
Cross and then, getting Pinky, ride to join the rest of the avengers,
he lost no time in putting the suggestion into effect.
“Why, man, what brings you back? Why aren’t you riding with the
others?” exclaimed the woman. “I should think they were short handed
enough, as it was, to capture that villain without leaving you behind.”
“That’s the way it looked to me, Mrs. Hawks, but Sam got mad at me and
told me to give Ki Yi my pony and come back here to stay with you.”
And rapidly he narrated the incidents that had brought about the
unhorsing of the pursuing cowboy and his own humiliation.
Sympathetically the woman listened.
“Sam always was hot tempered,” she declared. “And then he only listens
to the last one who has his ear. I’ve always told Hen so--and this
business proves it. Still, I’m mighty glad you came back. I was
beginning to feel scared, all alone here. It’s no place to leave a
woman, with her home in ruins and all those cattle in the corral.”
Groaning as he realized from this torrent of words that even the events
of the night would not stop the woman’s loquacity, the foreman cursed
silently to himself.
But he was given little time to indulge in his own thoughts.
“Who knows, it may be an act of Providence that you’ve come back,”
rattled on the woman. “Like as not, something will happen before
morning that will give you a chance to show your worth and make us
all glad you didn’t go. Let’s go over to the corral and see how the
cattle are. I’ve got to be doing something. There’s no house to go into
and----”
“That’s just what I was agoing to speak to you about,” exclaimed Sandy,
interrupting. “It’s no fit place for a lady to be--here on the plains
with her home in ruins and no roof or nothing to protect from storms
and no food to eat.”
“You never spoke a truer word, Sandy. But what can we do? Now, you’re
here, I don’t propose to let you go and leave me while you ride to the
Centre for provisions or anything.”
“Why not go over to the Double Cross?” suggested the foreman. “You and
Mrs. Bowser could get along together--you’d be company for each other,
so you wouldn’t feel afraid--and that being so, it would let Pinky and
me go to join Sam and the rest of them.”
For several minutes the woman considered the proposition, without
making any comment.
By watching her face closely, thanks to the light from the still
glowing ruins, the foreman could see from its expression that his
suggestion had appealed to her, and this was proved by her words.
“Do you think it would be right for me to leave the cattle?” she
queried, anxiously. “Something might happen to them--or they might be
raided.”
“Well, I don’t see how you could do very much, either to stop the raid
or to help, if trouble broke out,” replied Sandy, a smile lighting
his face. “If there’s one thing more than another that will stir up a
restless crittur, it’s a woman. And you sure wouldn’t be able to stand
off a gang of raiders.”
“No-o, I suppose not,” returned the woman, hesitatingly. “Still, if
anything _should_ go wrong, and I wasn’t here, Hen would never forgive
me.”
Only too well did the foreman realize the truth of this statement,
thoroughly familiar as he was with the nature and disposition of the
owner of the Star and Moon ranch. But he was determined to rejoin his
fellow avengers, and, as an idea came into his mind, he exclaimed:
“Hen didn’t think anything about _you_ when he started after that
raider. I don’t see why you should put yourself in danger. If it hadn’t
been for my row with Sam, I wouldn’t be here now--and then you would
have been in a bad fix, without food, shelter or ponies. It strikes me
that, under the circumstance, the thing for you to do is to think only
of yourself and come with me to the Double Cross.”
“But how would we get there? We haven’t any ponies and I surely can’t
walk thirty miles through the grass.”
“I’ll fix that all right, if that’s all is keeping you. It won’t take
me more than an hour or so, perhaps not that long, to round up a couple
of the bronchos and then we can start.”
“Then get busy and catch ’em,” exclaimed the woman. “I kind of hate to
leave the ranch this way--but Hen Hawks had no business to leave me all
alone by myself!”
Waiting never a minute, least the woman repent of her decision, Sandy
set out to round up two of the ponies, smiling to himself as he went
out onto the plains at Mrs. Hawks’ passionate outburst.
“I wouldn’t be in Hen Hawks’ place when he _does_ get back for all the
cattle in that corral,” he grinned.
Thanks to his skill, it did not take the foreman long to catch a couple
of the bronchos, and, though they were obliged to ride without saddles
or even blankets and with bridles improvised from bits of rawhide
lariats which Sandy found, in due course they were on their way to the
home ranch of the Double Cross, which they reached soon after daybreak.
In horror, Mrs. Bowser listened to her friend’s excited recital of the
events of the night before.
But, when Sandy announced his intention of taking Pinky and riding to
the Sangammon swamps for the purpose of rejoining the band of avengers,
she refused to permit him.
“What, leave us two women alone and unprotected?” she exclaimed. “Shame
on you for thinking of such a thing, Sandy! Who knows but that terrible
white raider, learning that all the men from the Double Cross and the
Star and Moon ranches are chasing him, may come back and burn our
buildings, too?”
In vain the foreman protested he had received orders from Bowser to
follow, if possible, declaring that the greatest safeguard against
further raids was to capture the raider.
Mrs. Bowser was adamant, however, and in her position Mrs. Hawks ably
backed her up.
Giving up the idea for the moment, Sandy went back to the horse corral,
taking Pinky with him.
“What’s to be done?” demanded the latter, when they were safe from
being overheard.
“I’m going!” declared the foreman, with emphasis. “You sneak into the
bunkhouse and pack some grub for our saddlebags. Better put in a good
supply because the others will probably be running short. I’ll catch a
couple of the best ponies and make ’em ready. When you’ve stowed the
grub, come on out here. We’ll mount and ride up to the ranchhouse.
Seeing that we’re determined to go, anyhow, the women will probably
give their consent.”
“And if they don’t?”
“We’ll just ride away.”
Satisfied with this arrangement, Pinky hurried off to carry out his
part of it, rejoining his companion in due course.
Quickly mounting, but not without many misgivings, the two cowboys
cantered round to the veranda of the ranchhouse where they knew the
women were sitting.
Even before they had come in sight, Mrs. Bowser heard the hoofbeats and
went to learn their cause.
“What are you two boys going to do?” she demanded.
“Join Sam and the rest,” returned Sandy.
“Oh, no, you’re not; not while Amy and I are here all alone!” exclaimed
the woman, resolutely.
And with a lightning movement, she turned to the side of the veranda,
picked up a rifle and leveled it at the rebellious cowpunchers ere they
could realize exactly what was happening.
“_Now_ do you think you’ll go?” demanded Mrs. Bowser, grimly. “If you
don’t turn round and ride back to the corral, dismount and promise not
to try any such tricks again, I’ll--I’ll shoot you!”
Not relishing being in front of the death-dealing weapon pointed at
him, especially when it was in the hands of a nervous woman--for he
realized it might be discharged accidentally any moment--the foreman
pretended to yield.
“All right! You seem to be the doctor,” he replied, wheeling his horse,
and at the same time winking at Pinky to let him know he had evolved
another scheme to carry out his purpose.
“Well, I rather guess I’m the doctor--and you’ll find it out!” retorted
Mrs. Bowser.
“Put down the rifle, won’t you?” pleaded Sandy. “It might go off
without you intending it should. Now, we’re not going, you don’t need
it.”
“Say, you fellows must think I _am_ easy,” smiled the woman. “I won’t
put it down--and what’s more, Amy and I are going to follow you with it
to the corral, so you won’t have the chance to give us the slip!”
It having been the foreman’s purpose, after persuading Mrs. Bowser to
lay aside the rifle, to make a dash for the plains, when he realized
from the determined woman’s words that his scheme was frustrated, he
relieved his feelings by cursing.
But a way out of the difficulty was presented in an unexpected manner!
Ere the cowboys had ridden a rod back toward the horse yard, both they
and the two women were amazed to hear hoofbeats.
Wheeling in their saddles, at the same time whipping out their six
shooters, that they might not be caught unawares in case the newcomers
proved more raiders, the cowpunchers were surprised to see a man and a
woman canter over the rise in the plains that led into the yard of the
Double Cross home ranch.
At the sight of Mrs. Bowser with the rifle in her hands and the two
horsemen with revolvers drawn, the newcomers drew rein, abruptly.
“What’s wrong, Sarah?” called the man, at the same time dropping his
hand to his own shooting iron.
“Well, Charlie and Mary Harris, if I’m not glad to see you!” cried Mrs.
Bowser, running out to meet the couple, whom she had recognized as
friends of hers from the Centre.
“Then, for goodness sakes! put down that rifle!” called the woman.
“You may be glad to see us, but I don’t feel over safe with that thing
pointed at me.”
Quickly the other woman obeyed.
Explanations of the surprising scene which had greeted the newcomers
were quickly asked and given.
“Now that we’re here, there’s no reason why the boys can’t go ahead
and join Sam and Hen,” exclaimed Harris. “If they’ve got to search the
Sangammon bottoms, two more men will be mighty welcome to them. I wish
I could go myself,” he added, wistfully.
“Well, you can’t, so you might just as well get that notion right out
of your head!” retorted his companion, who was his wife. “It’ll be bad
enough to have only one man.”
Fearing that some whim of the women might deprive them of this
unexpected opportunity to go to their fellows, Sandy again wheeled his
horse and rode up to the group.
“Then, we can go, Mrs. Bowser?” he asked, gathering up his reins and
drawing his feet back ready to bury the rowels of his spurs in his
pony’s flanks the instant permission was given.
“You think it will be all right, Charlie?” she asked, turning to her
friend from the Centre.
“Sure thing. Besides, Sam and Hen will certainly need every man they
can get!”
“All right, you may go,” exclaimed Mrs. Bowser. “And good luck to you!”
she called.
For, no sooner had Sandy and Pinky heard the first words of her reply
than they leaped their ponies forward and were racing over the plains
before the permission was fairly out of her mouth.
Being mounted on the fleetest horses that the Double Cross boasted,
they traveled fast, sparing neither their horses nor themselves in
their desire to join the other avengers as soon as possible.
From afar, they caught sight of the fire sweeping over the bottoms.
“They’ve trailed the fiend and are trying to burn him out!” cried the
foreman, in exultation. “Come on, man, ride like the old Nick, so we
can be in at the killing!”
All eagerness, the two cowpunchers rode with quirt and spur.
Scarce two miles away were they when they suddenly beheld a figure dart
from the underbrush, scan the plains before him hastily and then make a
dash for the bunch of ponies standing to the South.
“That’s the raider! He’s got away from them! Ride him down!” yelled
Pinky.
But, even as he spoke, the daredevil renegade, as the reader knows,
had leaped upon one of the ponies, and, waving his arms, scattered the
others to the four points of the winds.
An instant later, Bowser and the other avengers, who had been outwitted
by Scalping Louie, dashed from the swamps and began their frantic but
futile firing at the fugitive, which they quickly forsook, as the
reader knows, in order to save their own lives.
A moment, Sandy and his companion, never slackening their pace,
hesitated whether to go in pursuit of the raider or to ride to the
relief of their friends.
And as they tried to decide which to do, they beheld Bowser fall.
“Someone’s down! We must save him!” shouted the foreman to his
bunkmate. And together they rode with might and main.
But little did they think the fallen man was their master!
Being the heavier man Sandy’s pony was tiring rapidly.
“Ride, man, I can’t last!” he shouted.
Bending low over his saddle, Pinky rowelled deep furrows in the flanks
of his broncho.
Gamely the beast responded.
The blanket of suffocating smoke was almost upon the prostrate form of
the owner of the Double Cross.
Less than fifty feet away was Pinky.
Leaning far to one side of his saddle, the cowboy raced up, just as the
hot, choking black pall settled over the spot where the ranchman lay.
Having taken keen sight of where the body lay, Pinky made a desperate
grab.
To his intense joy, his fingers caught in the man’s belt.
Tightening his hold, the cowboy turned his pony’s head, gave a
terrific jab with his spurs--and swept from the cloud of smoke,
dragging the body with him!