CHAPTER XXIJUDY BRINGS TIDINGSAt 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.
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.