Shan Rhue lay prostrate for a long time, but no one went to his assistance. As he fell the gamblers raised a shout, and made a motion to attack Ted.
But the foreman of Running Water sprang in front of them, and as if by magic the broncho boys and the cow-punchers and other supporters of Hatrack were by his side.
Ted had leaped to the fore and was standing shoulder to shoulder with the foreman of Running Water. He heard a ripple of laughter, and looked up to see Stella standing by his side.
"Bully for you, Ted," she said. "You did that fine."
Ted smiled back at her, then turned his eyes upon the surprised and angry gamblers. There was something there that demanded all his attention. The gamblers only needed a leader to make them a dangerous proposition.
But their leader was down and out by reason of a few neat and handy blows, and none other had the courage to come to the front. It was the psychological moment.
Ted Strong took advantage of it. Without a moment's hesitation, he stepped in front of the foreman of Running Water, who moved back to give him the place of vantage.
Ted had not even taken his six-shooter from its holster, but stood with his hands resting lightly on his hips, while his eyes roved inquiringly over the menacing crowd.
"Any of you gentlemen like to have some of the same sort of medicine?" he asked, nodding toward the prostrate Rhue.
There was no reply.
"Because if any of you would, I, or any of my friends, will be glad to accommodate you," he added.
An ominous growl came from some one back in the crowd.
"Would you like some of it?" asked Ted, turning suddenly in that direction.
He waited for several moments for an answer, but none came.
"Now, you fellows, I want to say that this incident is closed," said he firmly. "You are beaten every way from the jack, as you would say. You put up this race to skin innocent parties, and you thought to use my friends for your purposes, and have failed. The face was fairly won by our horse, and that goes. If any man doubts it, I will prove it to him by any means he wishes, from fists up to howitzers. You have made a lot of fools of yourselves by allowing an old crook like Norris to play in with you. I haven't a bit of sympathy for you. I'm glad you lost your money, and I'd feel gladder if you all went broke. This is the end of this adventure. Where's Norris? We want that magpie horse which we won."
The men dispersed after this speech, which closed with a ringing cheer from the broncho boys and the cow-punchers and other friends of Hatrack.
But Norris could not be found. He and the horse and the jockey had disappeared. Ted rounded the boys up, and all were present except Kit.
"Where's Kit?" he asked.
"Don't know," said Bud. "He was around here a few minutes ago. Reckon he's somewhere about."
The crowd having dispersed uptown, a search was made for Kit, but he could not be found.
"I wonder if some of that gang hasn't got square with us by some foul play on Kit," said Ted. "It would be like the coyotes. Kit was the smallest of the lot, and naturally the cowards would pick him."
"Kit's small, all right," said Stella stoutly, for she and Kit were great friends, and Stella was always one to stick up for those she liked. "If they pick Kit for his size, and think they have got an easy thing, they will find that they have gathered up a red-hot Chile pepper. He'll give them the hottest fight they ever had, as long as he lasts."
"Hurray fer you, Stella," exclaimed Bud. "You speak for fair. Kit's not much on size, but he's a whirlwind."
Shan Rhue was slowly getting on his feet. His broad, brutal face was badly discolored where Ted's fists had come in contact with it.
One of his eyes was bloodshot and rapidly taking on a green-and-purple hue, and his upper lip stuck out like an overhanging roof. As he looked around and saw that the broncho boys were alone, and that he had been left to recover as best he might by those whom he had called his friends and supporters, he growled deep in his chest.
"The skunks," he muttered, between his swollen lips. "They'd make me fight an' steal fer them, an' then leave me in the hole, would they? Well, I'll make them hump fer this."
Then he looked unsteadily at Ted out of his good eye, as if he was wondering how it all had happened. But while his glance was not as belligerent as it had been, still there was nothing but hatred in his expression.
Ted eyed him back fearlessly, but this time his hand rested upon the handle of his revolver, and Stella, by his side, was on the alert also. Shan Rhue was not one to be trusted, especially after he had met defeat. After staring for a moment he spoke.
"I reckon yer beat me fair, young feller," he said, "although I don't know yet how yer did it. But I want ter say ter yer now that this ain't the end, by no means."
"That's all right," said Ted easily. "You keep out of my way, and you will be all right."
"I go where I please, an' do what I please, an' ask ther right o' no man," retorted Shan Rhue truculently.
"All right, go where you please, but don't run afoul of me," said Ted sharply. "I don't want to have anything to do with such cattle as you, and I don't propose to. Keep off my trail if you know when you're well off. This is a friendly tip—take it or leave it."
"I don't want none o' yer tips," growled Shan Rhue. "Ye've beaten me, an' I hate yer. Look out fer me next time, that's all."
"Yes, that's all. Skidoo! You're not pretty to look at."
Ted turned his back upon the defeated bully, but Stella did not, and had Shan Rhue made a motion toward his gun there would have been one with a pearl handle and trimmed with silver in commission in an instant.
With a long, malignant look after Ted, the bully turned and hobbled slowly from the fair grounds.
"I'm going to start on the trail of Norris," said Ted. "Want to come along, Stella?"
"You bet I do," said the girl. "Wait till I catch my pony."
"Ben, you and Bud ride through the town and see if you can't get on to the movements of that old rip Norris, also, and look out for Kit. If we don't get Norris, and make him give up that magpie pony, our work has not been half done. As long as we have won out all around, we might as well have the fruits of our victory," said Ted.
"What'll we do to ther coyote?" asked Bud.
"Part his coat tails and give him a good, swift kick," answered Ted. "But don't get into any fights with these town gamblers. We can't afford anything of that sort, you know."
"All righty; but I'd shore like ter git a crack at some o' them mavericks," said Bud grudgingly.
"They're all licked in their minds already," said Ted. "Of course, they're sore at losing their money, and if a dozen or more of them were to tackle you, you'd have a hard time getting away with it. When the fight comes off, if ever it does, we all want to be in on it."
They parted, and Ted and Stella rode into the town.
"Say, friend, have you seen anything of that old skin Norris?" asked Ted, meeting one of the Running Water outfit on the street.
"Yep. I wuz jest goin' ter look yer up an' post yer," was the reply.
"Which way did he go, or is he still in town?"
"Jest after yer put ther finish onto Shan—an', say, that wuz a beaut, if any one should ask you—I see Norris an' ther jock makin' fer ther gate, leadin' ther magpie bronc. I thinks they're goin' ter put him in ther corral fer yer, an' didn't pay much 'tention ter him."
"Then he's up at the corral?"
"No, he ain't. He's foggin' along to'rds ther Wichita Mountains as fast as he kin go."
"How do you know?"
"I met one o' our outfit a bit ago, an' he was sore because yer let ther old feller git away with ther magpie, after yer won him fair. Yer see, he thinks ye flunked on collectin' ther pony."
"Not on your life. We don't do business that way."
"That's what I was thinkin', so I ast him whichever way ther ole man was headin'. He says inter ther east, tickity-brindle."
"Which road?"
"Right out ther east end o' ther main street."
"Thank you, pard."
"Yer almighty welcome. Good luck. If yer ketch up with ther coyote, bring him in an' let us have a good squint at him."
"Oh, I'll bring him in, all right, if I get him."
"So long!"
"So long! Come on, Stella, we'll have to kick dust if we're going to connect with that old party."
They dashed down the street, followed by an equal mingling of smiles and frowns. Smiles from the cow-punchers and townspeople whose champion he had been, and frowns from the gamblers.
But they saw neither, for they were intent upon their business. They made a mighty handsome couple as they dashed along, for they were well mounted and both were perfect riders.
Many a young girl walking along the street looked enviously after Stella, and wished she could ride as well and was as beautiful. And many a lad looked after his ideal of a hero of the West, dashing and brave Ted Strong, who had so lately vanquished the bully who had been feared of all men, and who could ride like a centaur, and shoot perfectly.
It did not take long for them to clear the town, and dash out onto the prairie road which led into the Wichita Mountains.
They did not spare their horses, for Ted knew that if Norris once succeeded in reaching the mountains it would be almost impossible to find him among the many fastnesses and deep and rough cañons which abound in those most picturesque hills and peaks.
While Ted knew the Wichita Mountains well, he was also aware that even the most expert scout did not know all about them, and that there were places in them that had never been explored, unless, perhaps, by renegade Indians and white outlaws, with which the mountains had at times been infested.
They had ridden an hour or more when Ted pulled in his pony.
"No use riding our ponies to death the first heat," he said to Stella, with a smile.
"My cayuse is good for another hour," said Stella; "I can tell by the way he's going under me."
"Yours would last because you're such a light and easy rider. You take weight off a pony. But I'm a good deal heavier, and I can feel this fellow tiring, although he'd go until he dropped in his tracks if I'd let him."
They walked their ponies over the springy sod beside the road, which was becoming fainter the farther they got from the town. In the distance they could see the mountains, a dark mass against the sky.
"Some one on the road," said Stella, pointing ahead.
"It is a little hazy. Dust, I guess," said Ted. "I think we better hit it up a bit. Perhaps it is Norris and his precious 'grandson,' and if it is we'll get to them before they get to the mountains."
They put their ponies, at a lope, and seemed to be catching up with the dust cloud rapidly. Soon they were able to distinguish two riders.
"By Jove, I believe we are on the right track," said Ted.
Stella's bright eyes had been watching the riders in front of them for some time.
"Ted, it's not Norris. There are two riders, one behind the other, and they are coming this way," she said.
Ted reined in his pony, and took a long look.
"You're right, Stella," he said. "But, perhaps, we can get some news of the fugitives from them."
Again they spurred forward.
"Ted, that's Kit, as sure as you live," cried Stella, "I'd know him anywhere."
In a few minutes they were within hailing distance, and Ted gave the long yell, which was answered, and in a few minutes they were reining in beside Kit. Behind him, securely bound to the back of Magpie, was old man Norris, who looked very crestfallen.
"Hello, Kit, you rascal, I see that you got him," said Ted.
"You bet, and a merry chase I had after him," answered Kit.
"Why, Kit, what's the matter with your arm?" cried Stella.
Kit's arm was hanging by his side, and his coat sleeve near his shoulder was stained with blood.
"Shot!" answered Kit laconically.
"Bad?" asked Stella anxiously.
"Not so very. Just touched the bone. But it has been bleeding like the deuce."
"Ted, take charge of the prisoner. Kit, get off that horse and let me see that wound."
Stella's commands were promptly obeyed, and Kit groaned slightly as Stella helped him off with his coat and cut away his sleeve. He had received a nasty flesh wound near the shoulder, made by a ball of large caliber, which had passed clear through.
As soon as she had washed the wound with water from Ted's canteen, and had bound it up, Kit felt much more comfortable.
"How did it happen?" asked Stella.
"I heard that the old man and the jockey had made a sneak from the grounds when Ted was having his fun with the big fellow, and I got my bronc and followed them. I came up with them a ways back, and made the old duffer halt, but the jock potted me and got away. That's all."
"Kit, you're the most reckless boy I ever knew," said Stella, as he climbed into his saddle with some effort, for his arm was stiff and swollen, and it was all he could do to keep from groaning with every jump of his pony.
"What in the world made you start after them alone?" asked Ted.
"Well, you were busy with the big bully, and, although I felt certain that you would get the best of him in the end, I thought it wouldn't be good policy to take any of the boys with me, in case there should be a general fight. I know you would need all the fellows."
"Well, but, dog-gone you, you ought to have taken some one," said Ted. "How did you know but the old man and the jockey were not dangerous fellows? Men in their business are generally bad actors when it comes to a scrimmage."
"Oh, I thought I could handle them," laughed Kit. "And I could, too, only I got careless, and let that jockey get the drop on me. The old man knuckled under gracefully when I presented my card."
"Did you get the old man after you were shot?"
"Yes. You see, this was how it was: I got sight of them a short ways ahead of me. They were evidently saving their horses, for they were traveling slowly."
"Didn't they get next that they were being followed?"
"I don't think so. They saw only one rider, and I suppose they thought that if they were pursued at all it would be by several men, and they were confident that with their horses they could run away from anything we had except Hatrack."
"It's a wonder they didn't light out quick."
"I think they figured to save their horses until they were sure they were being followed."
"Then what happened?"
"I saw them look back at me several times, but they did not hit up their speed any."
"Were you fogging along pretty fast?"
"Not so very. You see, I didn't want them to think that I was on their trail. I went just fast enough to overtake them gradually. If they had got on to me they would have been out of sight before I could gather up my reins."
"Foxy Kit," said Stella.
"And they let you come right up with them?" asked Ted.
"Yep. I was right up on them before they got on to me."
"They recognized you, eh?"
"They did when I was about twenty feet away. Then I heard the old man holler, 'It's one o' them dern broncho boys.'"
"And then what?"
"Well, you see, I didn't have my gun out, and, as he says that, the jockey pulls and fires one shot, which landed in my arm. Then, before I can reach around and get my gun out with my left hand, he gets away. But the action was too quick for the old man, and he sat still until I had him covered, when I had sent a couple of balls after the jock to make him hit up the pace a bit."
"The old man was easy, eh?"
"Easiest kind. But he might have got away from me if he had the nerve."
"Well, Kit, you did a great stunt. I'm mighty glad you landed the old coot. But I don't know what to do with him now that we have him."
"Well, we better take him to town, anyway. He'd get lost if we turned him loose out here. Let his friends take care of him, when he gets there."
"All right; let's move on."
Not much was said as they made their way back to town. Old man Norris did not open his mouth, but looked dejected and sad, as if he was brooding over what would happen to him when he arrived at his destination. He was plainly uneasy, and probably wished they would turn him loose.
When they were within a mile of the town they saw a cloud of dust approaching them rapidly, and watched it curiously. It was a horseman, fogging along at a rapid pace.
Finally out of the dust emerged Bud Morgan, and as he came abreast of them he pulled his horse down on its haunches.
"Howdy?" he said.
"How?" answered the others.
"So yer got ther ole pelican, eh?" said Bud, with a grin.
"Kit did," said Ted.
"Bully for you, Kit," said Bud heartily. "I was in town, an' a feller from over to Running Water told me you and Stella had come out this way, an' I follered. What's the matter with your arm, Kit?"
"Got a shot through it."
"Sho! Did that old pirate give it to you?"
"No, the jockey, and then he flew."
"I've got a good mind to go after him, an' bring him in."
"Wouldn't do any good. At the rate he was going when I sent a message after him, he's clear into the suburbs of Chicago by this time."
They were soon on the outskirts of the town, and as they entered the main street they saw a crowd of men coming toward them.
"Here comes a reception committee," said Ted. "Wonder who they are, and what they want."
"By Jove, there's that big fellow Shan Rhue," exclaimed Kit. "I wonder what he's after."
"I thought he had enough o' our kind o' medicine not to want ter tackle us so soon again," said Bud.
"I don't like the looks of that gang," said Ted.
"Neither do I," said Stella. "I've a hunch that they mean mischief."
"In what way?" asked Ted.
"Well, I can't exactly define the feeling I have, but somehow I think they don't wantus."
"Eh? Whom do they want?"
For reply Stella made a motion toward Norris. Ted looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then comprehended.
"I see," he said seriously. "Well, they won't get him."
"Bud, where are the other boys?" asked Stella.
"Uptown som'er's. Why?" said Bud.
"They ought to be here," said the girl seriously. "I think we'll be needing them soon."
"I tumble, an' I'll jest fog on ahead an' gather them up."
"Yes," said Ted. "and while you're about it see if you can't find that foreman of the Running Water Ranch, and have him round up his boys or a few good fellows who will back us up if it comes to trouble. I don't know what his name is, do you?"
"Yes, his name is Andy Bowles, an' he's as good as three ordinary men."
"Then fly. There's no telling what's coming off."
Bud gave his pony the rowels, and in a moment was out of sight in a cloud of dust. Ted and the others rode steadily forward, the two parties approaching nearer every moment.
The party headed by Shan Rhue had taken to the middle of the road, and soon they had come together, and both halted. For a moment nothing was said.
Ted was in advance, holding the reins of the pony on which Norris was tied hand and foot, Stella was on one side of Norris, and Kit on the other.
"Well?" said Ted inquiringly, as they came face to face.
He looked directly at Shan Rhue as he said it, then allowed his eyes to wander over the crowd. In it he saw some of the toughest characters in that part of the country.
They were men who bore the reputation of being cattle rustlers on provocation, and who had been suspected of horse stealing and other crimes.
"We want that man," said Shan Rhue shortly and roughly.
"Is that so?" said Ted, with feigned surprise.
"Yes, that's so," was the surly reply.
"Then why didn't you go out and get him?"
"We left that to you," said Shan, with a nasty laugh.
"Then you'll still leave him to me."
"Well, we want him, and that's all there is to it."
"What do you want with him?"
"We'll show you when we get him."
"It's a cinch you won't get him until you do show me."
"Now, I don't want to have any trouble with you, young feller, but—"
"I shouldn't think you would."
At this retort a snicker went up in the crowd, and Shan turned upon his followers with a brow like a thundercloud. But he said nothing, as the snicker subsided as soon as it began.
"And I don't want any of your lip, either. Give us the old man peaceable, an' you can go."
"Say, that's real good of you. But I want to tell you one thing, Shan Rhue, before you lose any more breath in conversation, you don't get him unless you tell me what you propose doing with him, and perhaps not then. It's up to me to say who gets him, or what is done with him. You seem to forget that he's my prisoner, not yours."
"Well, I'll tell you what we're going to do with him," said the bully, with a blustering air. "We're goin' to hang him as high as that telegraph pole out thar."
"Bet you anything you've got you don't," said Ted, with a pleasant smile.
There was a murmur of anger in the crowd.
"Don't let them get me," wailed old Norris.
"Dry up!" said Stella sternly. "Don't you see he's trying to save you."
"Why do you want to hang this old man?" asked Ted.
"Because he whipsawed us all. He's the only one who got any money out of that race. We gave him five hundred dollars to pull it off. He was broke, and couldn't have bet a cent on it, anyway. That's why. He said his horse would win in a walk, and every one of us went broke on it."
"Good! I'm glad to hear it," said Ted heartily. "You ought to have lost. But I'll tell you one thing, the old man really thought his horse would win. He didn't know that Bud's horse was the old Mexican racer, Chiquita; neither did any of us except Bud, who kept the matter to himself, and there you are. The old man is a professional skin, I'm free to confess, but he was out to skin us, not you. You've got nothing against him. You were beaten by gambler's luck, and now you're not game to stand by it. But there is one sure thing, you'll not get old Norris from me until you kill me. That's a cinch."
"You're a game kid, all right," said Shan Rhue, "but you're committing suicide with that kind o' talk. I didn't lose so much myself, an' I ain't got nothin' agin' the ole man; it's you I'm after—"
"Why didn't you come alone if you wanted me? Was it necessary for you to bring a whole posse with you?"
"Now, the less I hear of that kind o' talk, the easier it will be for you. Hand over the old gaffer, an' go your way peaceful. You'll get that much chance."
"Thank you for nothing. I stay by the old man."
Farther up the street Ted saw a commotion out of which evolved a party of men moving in his direction. He had no doubt it was Bud and Andy Bowles, the foreman of the Running Water Ranch.
"For the last time, give up that man!" commanded Shan Rhue.
"No."
"Then we'll take him."
Kit had cut the old man's bonds, and thrust a revolver into his hand.
"Fight for your life," he said.
With a roar the mob was upon them. Revolvers were drawn, and as they rushed forward the dauntless three surrounded Norris—three against fifty.
"Halt!" cried Ted. "The first man to lay a hand on any of us is a dead one."
"Go on an' take him. I'll attend to the kid," shouted Shan Rhue.
"Get him!" "String him up!" "Lynch the old thief!"
These were the cries with which the mob advanced.
Out of the mob came several shots. Ted heard a cry of pain behind him, and turned to see Stella reel in her saddle, pale to the lips, with her hand pressing her head, Then she fell.
With a cry of horror and rage, Ted turned toward her, but just then he felt himself seized and dragged from his saddle. Something struck him on the back of the head, and all became black.
But as he was going off into unconsciousness he heard a shout. It was the old Moon Valley yell, and he knew that Norris would be safe.
Bud was coming with reënforcements. Ted had dropped to the road under the feet of the terrified ponies, and it was a miracle that he was not trampled to death.
All about him the fight was going on.
Bud and Andy Bowles, and about twenty men whom they had hastily got together, had come to the rescue, and the gamblers' gang was soon on the run. They had not been able to get near Norris, for Kit had fought them off with his one good arm until, finding themselves attacked in the rear, the would-be lynchers ran for their lives.
The fight was swift and decisive, and several men lay in the dust when it was over, for Andy Bowles and Bud and Ben had fought like tigers.
When Ted recovered consciousness again he found himself lying in the road beside Shan Rhue, who had been knocked senseless by a blow from the butt of Bud's pistol.
Ted staggered to his feet.
"Where's Stella?" he cried.
The other boys looked around. Just before the fight began they had seen her, Kit, and the old man, but now she was gone.
"Stella was wounded," cried Ted. "Where is she? Scatter, men, and find her. She cannot be far away. If anything has happened to her, some one will suffer."
We will leave Ted and the broncho boys, to follow the misadventures of Stella.
After securing Magpie, which was taken back to the cow camp by Kit, who, much against his inclinations, was compelled to go into retirement until his arm healed, Ted released old man Norris, who secured a pony and rode rapidly out of town.
When Stella fell from the back of her pony to the road she became insensible. A ball from the weapon of one of Shan Rhue's gang had clipped a lock of hair from her forehead, creasing the skull. By a miracle her life was saved, for the merest fraction of an inch lay between her and death.
During the hurly-burly of the fight, and as Ted was grasped in the powerful arms of Shan Rhue, one of the gang rushed up to her as she lay in the dust and picked her up.
He was a powerful man, and carried Stella's light body as if she had been a child. That he was not seen by some member of the Running Water outfit was due to the fact that they were too busily engaged in fighting to pay attention to anything else.
When Stella regained her senses she was conscious of a racking headache, and, placing her hand to her forehead, brought it away wet and sticky. It was quite dark, and she groaned feebly. The pain was excruciating, and the motion of her body made her deathly sick.
She felt around her, and her hand came in contact with a cold, hard, yet yielding substance. Then she heard the rumble of wheels, and knew that she was in a vehicle of some sort. The motion of the couch on which she was lying was such that she came to the conclusion that she was in one of those old stagecoaches hung on leather springs, which were so much in use in the West before the advent of the railroads.
As her mind grew clearer she tried to remember all that had occurred. Suddenly it flashed upon her. The capture of old Norris, the attempt of Shan Rhue and his gang to take him away to lynch him, and the beginning of the fight. How it had been finished she did not know.
Neither did she know whether or not she was in the care of her friends or in the custody of her enemies. Probably the latter, for if Ted and the boys were taking her somewhere, surely she would have more attention, and the blood would have been washed from the wound on her forehead.
The curtains of the stage were down, and she did not know whether it was day or night.
Outside she heard the voices of men.
"Hurry up them mules, Bill," a man's voice came to her gruffly.
"Can't get any more out o' them. We've come nigh twenty mile on the run. I tell you, the mules is 'most all in," said a man, evidently the driver of the stage.
"Well, we ain't got much farther to go," said the other. "But we got to get there before moondown, er we'll be up against it."
"What time is the bunch goin' to be at the lone tree?"
"Ten o'clock."
"Then we've got just about an hour, eh?"
"Just about. But we're a long ways off yet. Git all y'u can out o' them mules. Kill 'em if y'u have to get them there on time."
"They're doin' all they can. Y'u don't want me to kill them before we get there, do y'u?" asked the driver crossly.
"No, but if y'u miss the bunch y'u know what will happen. Shan ain't much on the sweet temper since the kid bumped him so hard, an' he don't like y'u too well, nohow. I'm just givin' y'u a friendly tip."
"Keep it. I ain't so stuck on Shan myself as I used to be."
"Only don't let him know it. We ain't none of us in love with him, an' yet we come up an' eat out o' his hand when he calls us, just like a lot o' hound dogs."
The conversation told Stella the truth she had dreaded. She had been captured by Shan Rhue's ruffians, and she knew that she was in a precarious predicament, for she could hope for no mercy from Ted's merciless and beaten enemy.
She would be used to punish Ted, and she sighed at the thought of what grief her disappearance would cause her aunt and the boys.
Suddenly the curtain on the window was drawn aside. It was bright moonlight without, and in it she saw the villainous face of a man looking in upon her.
Her eyes met his, and she uttered an exclamation.
"Hello!" he exclaimed, in surprise. "Come to, have y'u?"
Stella made no reply.
"Thought fer a while that y'u'd slipped over the Great Divide," the fellow continued.
"No fault of yours that I didn't," said Stella weakly, for the pain and nausea to which she was being subjected had taken all her strength.
"I ain't had nothin' to do with it, lady. I'm just guidin' the outfit. I don't know y'u, er how y'u got hurt. Feelin' better?"
"I would be much better if I could get out and walk. The motion of this carriage makes me deathly sick."
"Can't let y'u do that, lady. We're in too much of a hurry to stop now."
"But you might let me have a drink of water. I am dying of thirst."
"I reckon I can do that."
The flap over the stage window dropped, and in a moment she heard hushed voices outside. Then a canteen was thrust through the window.
"Take all y'u want, lady, an' drink hearty," said her guide.
Stella wet her handkerchief and bathed her throbbing forehead, then took a deep draft, and felt much refreshed.
"Here's your canteen," she said.
Again the flap was thrust aside, and the ugly face looked in upon her with a leer.
"Where are we, and where are we going?" asked Stella.
"We're in the Wich—"
"Hey, Jack, stow that," cried the driver.
"But it won't do no harm—"
"You know what the orders is," said the other significantly.
"Sorry I can't tell y'u, lady. Orders is orders."
"Oh, well, I don't suppose it would do me any good to know where I am, anyway, but you might as well tell me what you are going to do with me. It would relieve my anxiety, and make me feel better."
"There ain't no harm comin' to y'u, lady, while I am with y'u," said the fellow, with a hateful leer that made Stella shudder.
"Thank you," she said faintly, as with a sigh she laid her head back again with her wet handkerchief on her brow.
So the stage rumbled on for almost an hour, with Stella the prey of sickness and pain. She doubted if she could have walked even if she had been permitted to leave the stage.
But as she lay there she thought, and from the scraps of conversation she had heard, and from what her guide was about to tell her when he was interrupted by the driver, she knew that she had been captured and abducted during the fight by Shan Rhue's men, and that she was in the Wichita Mountains.
That much, at least, she knew, but what caused her much anxiety was that she did not know the result of the fight.
She came to the conclusion that the broncho boys and their friends must have lost in the encounter, else she would not be in her present predicament.
But what of poor old Norris, for in spite of his rascality she was sorry that he had fallen into the hands of the ruthless Shan Rhue.
"Keep off to the left," shouted the guide. "We're almost there. Down into that coulee y'u go. There ain't another crossin' this side o' three mile, an' we ain't got time to go so far out o' our way."
"Say, we're liable to turn over down there. Better get the gal out, an' let her walk down. I can get safe up the other side."
"All right. Stop 'er."
The stage stopped, and the cessation of the swaying, swinging motion was a blessed relief to the tortured girl.
"Come on out," said the guide, as he threw the door open. "We'll have to ask you to walk to the bottom o' this coulee, if y'u don't want to be scrambled about on the bottom o' the coach."
Stella was glad to get out, but when her feet were on the ground she swayed and staggered like a drunken person from sheer sickness and weakness.
Beside her was her guide on his horse, and she was compelled to lean against it for a moment until she recovered herself.
The stage had gone lumbering and swaying down the bank of the coulee, and before it reached the bottom it turned on its side.
The driver leaped in safety to the ground, and the guide went scrambling down the bank to his assistance.
The mules were plunging and kicking, and threatened to break their harness to pieces.
Stella was mutely thankful that she had not been in the stage when it went over, as she sat down on a rock to rest and watch the efforts of the swearing and angry men to right the stage.
Once she thought of trying to escape while the men were engrossed in their work, and she arose eagerly.
But when she got to her feet she realized the impossibility of such a thing, for she almost fell. Then she sank down again, and resigned herself to her fate.
But soon the stage was put back on its wheels again, and the guide called to her to come down.
This was a slow and painful operation, during which the driver swore impatiently at the delay. But she accomplished it, and crawled into the stage and sank down on the pallet which had been made for her with the seat cushions.
Now they were off again, faster than before, and with correspondingly more discomfort to Stella. Oh, if the journey would only end, she thought.
"Here we are," she heard the guide's voice in a shout.
The stage stopped, and Stella heard a rush of feet.
"Got her?" some one demanded gruffly.
"Yep, but she's all in," replied the guide. "Her forehead was creased by a bullet, an' the trip has about finished her."
"Can't help that. Get her out. We've got to be moving. The soldiers are out to-night."
"What's the matter?"
"Injuns.".
"Uprisin'?"
"Not yet, but the agent over to Fort Sill has a tip that they are putting on paint."
"What's the trouble?"
"Somethin' about beef issue. The last cows issued to the Injuns were no good, an' the Injuns made a kick, an' the agent told them to go to the deuce. Old Flatnose an' his son Moonface, the Apache chiefs, have always been bad actors, an' now they are tryin' to scare up a muss."
"Reckon they'll do it?"
"The commandant at Fort Sill seems to think they will, for he's got two companies out on the scout."
"The boys better look out, then. The Injuns don't like the gang over at the Hole in the Wall none too good."
"We stand all right with Flatnose and his son, an' it's their band that's actin' bad."
"Well, y'u better get a move on y'u. The moon will be down in an hour."
"Get the gal out, then, an' we'll be movin'."
"All right," said the guide, poking his head into the coach. "Here's where you get out. Boss said to treat her well," he continued, turning to the man with whom he had been talking.
"Oh, we'll do that, all right," was the reply.
Stella scrambled painfully out of the coach. All about her were mounted men, both whites and Indians. There were a score or more of them.
"Can you ride?" asked one of them of Stella.
"Yes," she replied, "if you don't go too fast. I'm sick and weak."
"We'll do the best we can," said the man shortly.
Then he called back to his followers:
"Jake, bring up that spare hoss."
In a moment, and with a staggering weakness, Stella climbed into the saddle. With a man on each side of her, she took up the march again.
Through dark defiles in the black mountains the cavalcade made its way, Stella clinging to the saddle, and often in danger of falling off. Presently they came into a glade, or park, which was surrounded by towering mountain walls. For half an hour they traversed this, then came to the end, and before them yawned an opening in the wall less than ten feet wide.
They entered this, and after traversing it a short distance Stella found herself in a circular chamber in the mountains with the starry sky for a roof. Several fires were burning in the chamber, around which Indians and white men were sprawling, playing cards, talking, or silently smoking.
In one corner was a corral, in which many horses were confined.
"You can get down now," said the leader of the party that had conducted her to the place. "There is a shelter for you over there."
He pointed to a small tent on the farther side of the chamber.
"You will be perfectly safe here. You do not seem well. I will send you assistance."
"Where am I?" asked Stella.
"You are a prisoner in the Hole in the Wall," was the reply.
"Then Heaven help me," said Stella, sobbing.