JUDY BRINGS TIDINGS
At first the two Overland Riders in the mountain cabin thought Sam
Conifer had been mortally wounded, but after they had pulled
themselves together, washed his face and examined his wound, they
decided that it might not be so serious after all. A bullet had laid
about four inches of the forehead open, but did not seem to have
done the skull injury.
Sam was placed on blankets in the cabin, and the two Overlanders
worked over him until he regained consciousness. While they were
doing this Two-gun Pete and Idaho, rifles in hands, skulked about
outside, trying to discover the man who had fired the shot that got
Sam. Not knowing what position the old guide was standing in when
hit, they were unable to determine the direction from which the
bullet had come, and were about to return to the cabin to see if Sam
had come to, when Pete uttered a yell.
“Git down!” he shouted.
At the same instant, Idaho heard the report of a rifle and threw
himself down. Pete was already on the ground, hat in hand, and
looking at it ruefully. He held it up for his companion to see.
“Put er hole plumb through it,” he growled. “Thet miserable cayuse!
I hope I git a squint at him over the sights of my rifle. But, man,
he shore kin shoot!”
“Whar do ye think it come from?” asked Idaho Jones.
“From t’other side of the gulch. Must be usin’ a telescope rifle,
for no man with open sights could make two shots like thet. He might
do it once, but not twice. I call thet some shootin’. No wonder he
got old Sam. Ye keep watch. I’m going in to tell the Dude an’ Cap’n
Gray ’bout this heah,” announced Pete, making a run for the
protection of the rocks about the cabin.
He found Sam awake. The Overlanders had heard the shot, and met Pete
with a quick inquiry about it. Two-gun Pete exhibited his hat as the
answer to their question.
“I come in to ask ’bout Sam. I reckoned as mebby you’d like to have
somebody go down to the valley an’ git help fer him.”
“Not unless you wish to get away from here, which I don’t believe
you do,” replied Tom Gray.
“I reckon I don’t—not onless it’s to save a pard’s life. Is he bad
off—goin’ to pass in?”
“No, I ain’t, you miserable galoot!” answered Sam Conifer heatedly.
“I’m goin’ out purty soon to hunt fer a man, an’ when I finds him—”
“Not today, Samuel,” differed Hippy.
“I be!” insisted the injured man.
“I reckon what the Boss says goes ’round heah,” reminded Two-gun
Pete. “I’ll git out an’ keep watch.”
Soon after that Conifer, his head bandaged up as best the two men
could do it, went to sleep, and the Overlanders fell to considering
what they ought to do. They decided, in the first place, that Idaho
and Pete should go out and make further search for Jim, following
the direction taken by the outlaws when they rode away in such
haste. Hippy thought that he and Tom could protect their camp and
care for Sam at the same time, and perhaps, by the following day,
there would be help from the Circle O ranch.
Tom reminded him, that, not knowing where they were, no assistance
could be looked for from that direction. This had not occurred to
Hippy.
Pete and Idaho did not return until just before dark. They had found
not the slightest trace of the other guide, but they were delighted
to see Sam sitting up. Nothing had been seen of the rustlers, but
Two-gun Pete advised that the party move out of the cabin and go
into camp farther up in the mountains, as otherwise they were more
than likely to be attacked before morning.
Hippy and Tom moved Sam with some misgivings, but the old guide
stood the ride without admitting the slightest suffering because of
it. That night they made camp without building a fire, and lay down
in the open, deciding that in the morning they would return to the
cabin and again make it their headquarters while continuing the
search for Jim.
* * * * *
In the meantime the long absence of the party was beginning to cause
the Overland girls and Bindloss some worry, for not knowing where
their companions had gone, it was not possible to get into
communication with them.
By the following morning worry had grown into genuine alarm, and
ways and means for doing something were discussed by the rancher and
his guests. No conclusion was arrived at, but shortly after luncheon
their hopes were raised by a dust cloud down the valley. The cloud
soon grew into a horse and rider, and as it neared them the rider
was recognized as Judy. She was coming fast—her mustang running at
top speed.
“Judy’s excited about something,” said Bindloss, a frown wrinkling
his forehead.
The same thought was in the mind of each Overland Rider. Perhaps
Judy was bringing news from the party that went in search of Stacy
and Jim.
The mountain girl indulged in no fancy horsemanship that afternoon.
She rode straight up to the porch of the ranch-house and threw
herself from the saddle.
“Give me a drink of water. I’ve swallered a quart of dust,” was her
greeting.
“Is—is anything wrong?” begged Nora.
“Mebby everythin’ is. Hello, Pap Bindloss. Ain’t grown any better
lookin’ since I was here, be you?”
“What’s the matter, Judy?” he asked, ignoring her fling at him. “I
know something is wrong.”
She gave him a quick flashing look.
“You see too dad-gasted much for an old man. Ah-h-h-h! That water
tastes good. Where’s yer folks, Miss Gray?” she asked casually, and
emptied the glass of water.
“They went into the mountains to look for Stacy Brown and Jim. We
haven’t seen them since, and we are worried,” replied Grace.
“A-huh! How’d they know whar to go?”
No one answered, and Judy gave them a quick searching look.
“Tryin’ to hide up on me, eh? Wal, I don’t reckon as it’s any good
for you to do so, ’cause mebby I can tell ye some things that may be
good fer ye to know.”
“You know something about them, Judy?” demanded Miss Briggs.
“A-huh. Did they go up to Red Gulch?”
“Yes, yes!” cried the girls in chorus. “Judy, do you know where that
place is?” questioned Emma.
“Reckon I could find it if I tried, but I don’t reckon whether I
want to try or not. It’s a long, hard hike up thar, and thar won’t
be no picnic when you get thar. My Pap says it ain’t a fit place fer
folks to be, but Pap was mad with me afore he went away this mornin’
and threatened to give me a punch in the jaw, but he changed his
mind when I pulled my gun and told him to try it. Wal, Pap didn’t.
He went away madder’n a busting bronco. Said he wouldn’t be back fer
a few days. He said some things ’bout ye folks that I don’t ’low
nobody to say ’bout my friends, an’ I said so right out in meetin’,
and added a few other things, and that started the row. Say, I got
some news fer you folks.”
“Then for heaven’s sake tell it!” begged Emma. “You are killing us
with suspense.”
“I reckoned that way,” nodded the girl. “Wal, I heard it this
mornin’ fer the first time, ’bout your folks goin’ up in the
mountains, and why they went thar and all ’bout it. Funny, wasn’t
it, that I should hear it? I ain’t going to tell you whar I heard
it, but I did. You don’t reckon anythin’ happened to them, do you,
Pap Bindloss?”
“Judy, I think you can answer that question, and that you have come
here to help my friends,” replied the rancher.
“Fer why do ye think that?”
The rancher pointed to the rifle in Judy’s saddle boot.
“Are you going hunting, Judy?” he asked significantly.
Judy flushed and turned to the girls.
“I reckon I better tell ye now what I come heah to say—what I heard
this mornin’. Wal, it was this way: Your folks and some rustlers had
a fight in the mountains last night. It warn’t much of a fight, but
I heard that Sam Conifer had been killed and thet Miss Gray’s
husband and Hippy had been shot and that there was liable to be
trouble at Red Gulch, and I reckoned that I was your friend and that
you folks needed a friend right now, and that’s why Judy Hornby is
heah.”
Nora Wingate, uttering a moan, toppled over in a swoon, the other
Overland girls gazing at the mountain girl in a stunned sort of way,
while Judy fumbled awkwardly with her sombrero.