Three Modern Musketeers
The fierce crackling of the flames rolled toward them. The wind served at
least the one purpose of lifting the smoke so that it did not stifle
those on the river-bank. Clanton crept up from the cave and joined them.
"Looks like we're goin' out with fireworks, Billie," he grinned.
"That's nonsense," said Lee sharply. "There's a way of escape, if only we
can find it."
"Blamed if I see it," the young fellow answered. As he looked at her the
eyes in his pale face glowed. "But I see one thing. You're the best
little pilgrim that ever I met up with."
The heat of the flames came to them in waves.
"You walk out, climb on yore horse, an' ride down the river, Miss Lee.
Then we'll make a break for cover. You can't do anything more for us,"
insisted Prince.
"That's right," agreed the younger man. "We'll play this out alone. You
cut yore stick an' drift. If we git through I'll sure come back an' thank
you proper some day."
Recently Lee had read "The Three Musketeers." From it there flashed to
her a memory of the picture on the cover.
"I know what we'll do," she said, coughing from a swallow of smoke. She
stepped between them and tucked an arm under the elbow of each. "All
for one, and one for all. Forward march!"
They moved down the embankment side by side to the sand-bed close to the
stream, each of the three carrying a rifle tucked close to the side. From
the chaparral keen eyes watched them, covering every step they took with
ready weapons. Miss Lee's party turned to the right and followed the
river-bed in the direction of Los Portales. For the wind was driving the
fire down instead of up. Those in the mesquite held a parallel course to
cut off any chance of escape.
Some change of wind currents swept the smoke toward them in great
billows. It enveloped the fugitives in a dense cloud.
"Get yore head down to the water," Billie called into the ear of the
girl.
They lay on the rocks in the shallow water and let the black smoke waves
pour over them. Lee felt herself strangling and tried to rise, but a
heavy hand on her shoulder held her face down. She sputtered and coughed,
fighting desperately for breath. A silk handkerchief was slipped over her
face and knotted behind. She felt sick and dizzy. The knowledge flashed
across her mind that she could not stand this long. In its wake came
another dreadful thought. Was she going to die?
The hand on her shoulder relaxed. Lee felt herself lifted to her feet.
She caught at Billie's arm to steady herself, for she was still queer in
the head. For a few moments she stood there coughing the smoke out of her
lungs. His arm slipped around her shoulder.
"Take yore time," he advised.
A second shift of the breeze had swept the smoke away. This had saved
their lives, but it had also given Snaith's men another chance at them A
bullet whistled past the head of Clanton, who was for the time a few
yards from his friends. Instantly he whipped the rifle up and fired.
"No luck" he grumbled. "My eyes are sore from the smoke. I can't half
see."
Lee was not yet quite herself. The experience through which she had just
passed had shaken her nerves.
"Let's get out of here quick!" she cried.
"Take yore time. There's no hurry," Prince iterated. "They won't shoot
again, now Jim's close to us."
The younger man grinned, as he had a habit of doing when the cards fell
against him. "Where'd we go? Look, they've headed us off. We can't
travel forward. We can't go back. I expect we'll have to file on the
quarter-section where we are," he drawled.
A rider had galloped forward and was dismounting close to the river. He
took shelter behind a boulder.
Billie swept with a glance the plain to their right. A group of horsemen
was approaching. "More good citizens comin' to be in at the finish of
this man hunt. They ought to build a grand stand an' invite the whole
town," he said sardonically.
A water-gutted arroyo broke the line of liver-bank. Jim, who was limping
heavily, stopped and examined it.
"Let's stay here, Billie, an' fight it out. No use foolin' ourselves.
We're trapped. Might as well call for a showdown here as anywhere."
Prince nodded. "Suits me. We'll make our stand right at the head of the
arroyo." He turned abruptly to the girl. "It's got to be good-bye here,
Miss Lee."
"That's whatever, littlest pilgrim," agreed Clanton promptly. "If you get
a chance send word to Webb an' tell him how it was with us."
Her lip trembled. She knew that in the shadow of the immediate future red
tragedy lurked. She had done her best to avert it and had failed. The
very men she was trying to save had dismissed her.
"Must I go?" she begged.
"You must, Miss Lee. We're both grateful to you. Don't you ever doubt
that!" Billie said, his earnest gaze full in hers.
The girl turned away and went up through the sand, her eyes filmed with
tears so that she could not see where she was going. The two men entered
the arroyo. Before they reached the head of it she could hear the crack
of exploding rifles. One of the men across the river was firing at them
and they were throwing bullets back at him. She wondered, shivering,
whether it was her father.
It must have been a few seconds later that she heard the joyous
"Eee-yip-eee!" of Prince. Almost at the same time a rider came splashing
through the shallow water of the river toward her.
The man was her father. He swung down from the saddle and snatched her
into his arms. His haggard face showed her how anxious he had been. She
began to sob, overcome, perhaps, as much by his emotion as her own.
"I'll blacksnake the condemned fool that set fire to the prairie!" he
swore, gulping down a lump in his throat. "Tell me you-all aren't hurt,
Bertie Lee.... God! I thought you was swallowed up in that fire."
"Daddie, daddie I couldn't help it. I had to do it," she wept. "And--I
thought I would choke to death, but Mr. Prince saved me. He kept my
face close to the water and made me breathe through a handkerchief."
"Did he?" The man's face set grimly again. "Well, that won't save him. As
for you, miss, you're goin' to yore room to live on bread an' water
for a week. I wish you were a boy for about five minutes so's I could
wear you to a frazzle with a cowhide."
Snaith's intentions toward Clanton and Prince had to be postponed for the
present, the cattleman discovered a few minutes later. When he and Lee
emerged from the river-bed to the bank above, the first thing he saw was
a group of cowpunchers shaking hands gayly with the two fugitives. His
jaw dropped.
"Where in Mexico did they come from?" he asked himself aloud.
"I expect they're Webb's riders," his daughter answered with a little sob
of joy. "I thought they'd never come."
"You thought.... How did you know they were comin'?"
"Oh, I sent for them," The girl's dark eyes met his fearlessly. A flicker
of a smile crept into them. "I've had the best of you all round, dad.
You'd better make that two weeks on bread and water."
Wallace Snaith gathered his forces and retreated from the field of
battle. A man on a spent horse met him at his own gate as he dismounted.
He handed the cattleman a note.
On the sheet of dirty paper was written:
The birds you want are nesting in a dugout on the river four miles below
town. You got to hurry or they'll be flown.
J.Y.
Snaith read the note, tore it in half, and tossed the pieces away. He
turned to the messenger.
"Tell Joe he's just a few hours late. His news isn't news any more."