CHAPTER XIII.
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 usnow, 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. “Ishould 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 anythingshouldgo 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 aboutyouwhen 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 hedoesget 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.
“Nowdo 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 Iameasy,” 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 forwardand 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!