"But, Bud, how?"
"Easy enough. Hyar," he exclaimed, looking back at the horsemen behind him, "whar's that dude Chick Berry?"
"Here I be, Bud," replied a small, freckle-faced cowboy with blue silk ribbons on his shirt sleeves and other marks of the cowboy dude about him.
"Got any of that thar gum you's always achewin' so as ter be agreeable to ther ladies?" demanded Bud.
"Shore, Bud," rejoined Chick, pulling off an embroidered gauntlet and extracting a pink package from his breast pocket.
"Wall, chaw some quick, and chaw it good. I need it."
Chick's jaws worked overtime. Presently he handed a small wad of glutinous gum to his leader.
"Na-ow then," announced Bud, dismounting, "I'm goin' ter show you a hurry up repair job."
He squatted, cow-boy fashion, in front of the radiator, and with deft fingers pressed the gum into the leak.
"Let it dry a minute an' I'll bet ye that what-you-may-call-um will be as tight as a drum. No, don't give me no credit fer ther idee. I seen a feller fix his gasoline gig that way one day when I was down in San Antone,"
At the expiration of a few anxious minutes, water was poured into the radiator, and, to their immense relief, Bud's hastily contrived bit of plumbing worked. The radiator held water perfectly and a few moments later Peggy started the engine.
But at the first revolutions of the propellers a strange thing happened. On the spot where, a second before, had stood a group of interested horse hunters, not one remained after the propeller had whizzed round a couple of times. They were scattered all over the desert, their ponies maddened beyond all control by terror at the noise and smoke of the aeroplane's motor.
Bud alone managed to spur his pony close to the throbbing machine.
"Good bye and good luck!" he shouted, and waved his hat. The next instant his pony swung round on its hind legs and dashed off to join its terrified companions.
With an answering wave of the hand Peggy threw in the clutch that started the aeroplane forward, and after their long enforced delay they once more took the air. But a day had practically gone—a day in which the fight for the mine might have been lost.
Never had Peggy urged an aeroplane to greater speed than she did the fast monoplane, at the wheel of which she was now stationed. The desert floor flew by beneath them in a dull blur. The roar and vibration of the powerful motor shook the car like a leaf. Wandering William said nothing, but he gazed rather apprehensively over the side from time to time. Also he might have been observed to clutch at his hair occasionally.
"Can you see anything of the town yet?"
The professor leaned forward and shouted the question in Peggy's ear. He had to do so in order to make himself heard above the roar of the engine.
Peggy shook her head, but motioned to a pocket in which were a pair of field-glasses.
Wandering William understood, and raising them, held them to his eyes.
The sun was low and a reddish haze overhung the desert. But presently into the field of the binoculars there swung a-tall water tower. It marked the site of Blue Creek.
"I've got it," cried the observer; "swing off to the right a bit."
Obediently the big flying thing turned and rushed through the air toward the distant landmark.
"I can see the place now," cried Peggy. "Pray heaven we'll be in time."
She tried to put on more speed, but already the big monoplane was doing all it could, and a more. Under their hood the cylinders were smoking. There was a smell of blistered paint about the aerial craft. But Peggy never slackened speed for an instant. With the time that had been lost with the leaky radiator, she knew it was possible that Red Bill's men were already in the town.
If she had known that a speedy automobile had met the stealers of the location papers in mid-desert that afternoon and rushed them into Blue Creek she might have given up in despair. But, she knew nothing of Red Bill's ruse, and imagined that the trip with the stolen papers had been made on horseback all the way.
Fifteen minutes after the little settlement been first sighted the aeroplane soared roofs in a long, graceful swing, and then swooped to earth in front of the National House. Cash and the usual group of loungers came rushing out in huge excitement.
"It's an airship! Come and see the airship!"
The cry spread through the town like wildfire. In five minutes quite a large crowd was swirling and surging about the machine and its anxious occupants.
"Whar's the United States Assayer's office?" demanded WanderingWilliam, above the hubbub and excitement.
"Why it's two blocks to the right an' down that alley," volunteeredCash; "you're the second party as has bin askin' fer it ter day."
Peggy's heart sank and Wandering William bit his lips. From the bottom of the chassis Roy demanded:
"Are we too late?"
"We don't know yet, Roy dear," Peggy found time to whisper, and then:
"Who else was looking for the assayer?"
"Feller in a big automobile. All dust-covered, too. Said he had a claim ter file."
Wandering William actually groaned. But Cash went on speaking.
"Funny, all this rush of business should come ter day."
"How's that?" inquired Wandering William for want of something better to say.
"Why 'cause ther assay office is closed up. Jim Dallam, as ran it, his mother is dead, an' he got leave ter go back East. Ther nearest assay office now is at Monument Rocks sixty miles east of hyar."
Straw of hope as it was they clutched at it eagerly. There might be a train leaving within a reasonable time:
"Can we get a train there?" asked Wandering William eagerly bending forward.
"Reckon ye're jes' too late; one pulled out half an hour ago."
"Did—did the man with the red auto catch it?" asked Peggy breathlessly.
"Yes, mum—miss, I mean. He allowed he was going ter git them papers filed or bust."
The blow had fallen. Peggy sat numb and limp in the chassis. But presently the necessity of attending to Roy aroused her from her lethargy. Under her directions the boy was removed to a bed in the hotel and a doctor sent for. The physician lived in the hotel, so no time was lost before he was at Roy's bedside. He had finished his examination and had pronounced the injury painful, but not dangerous, when, without ceremony, Wandering William burst into the room.
"We can make it yet! We can make it yet!" he was shouting.
The doctor looked up as if he thought he had another patient and a maniac to deal with.
"I—I beg your pardon," stammered Wandering William, "but this is a vital matter to this young lady and gentleman."
"Yes—yes, what is it?" asked Peggy eagerly. Her eyes burned with eagerness and suppressed excitement. Something in Wandering William's manner seemed to say that he had found a way out of their difficulties.
"I've made inquiries," he repeated, "and I've found out that the train to Monument Rocks makes several stops. There's just a chance that we can beat it in the aeroplane."
"You can!"
Roy raised himself up in bed despite the pain.
"I think so. But we must hurry."
"Sis, do you mean you are going to try it?"
"Of course. We must."
"Then go in and win," cried the boy; "you can follow the tracks by the lights and once you overtake the train the rest will be easy."
The amazed doctor fairly dropped his case of instruments at this whirlwind dialogue.
"But—what—why—bless my soul," he gasped, but only the first part of his remarks was heard by Peggy. Followed by Wandering William she dashed from the room and into the street. In front of the hotel Cash was having a hard time keeping souvenir hunters from the aeroplane. But a pair of blue revolvers, like miniature Gatling guns, acted as powerful dissuaders of curiosity.
"All right. Stand clear, please!"
The aeroplane had been tuned up, and now, panting like an impatient horse, it was ready to be off on its dash for Monument Rocks. But the crowd stupidly clustered about it like bees round a rose bush. The delay was maddening, but Peggy dared not start for fear of injuring someone.
"Won't you please stand aside?" she begged for the twentieth time, but the crowd just as obstinately lingered.
Suddenly an idea came to her. She cut out the mufflers and instantly a deafening series of reports, like a battery of Gatling guns going into action, filled the air. Tense as the situation was, neither Peggy nor Wandering William on the rear seat could keep from laughing as they saw the effect the bombardment of noise had.
The inhabitants of Blue Creek literally tumbled all over each other in their haste to get out of the way. Five seconds after the deafening uproar commenced a clear path was presented, and, before the crowd could get used to the sound and come surging around again, Peggy started the aeroplane up. Amid a mighty shout it took the air and vanished like a flash in the gathering dusk. The race against time was on.
Fortunately the telegraph poles along the right of way acted as guides, for, in the gathering darkness, the tracks were hardly visible. Peggy did not dare to fly too low, however, for it was only in the upper air currents that the monoplane could develop its best speed.
But even with all her care she pressed the machine too hard, for half an hour after their departure from Blue Creek they had to alight to allow the cylinders to cool. Bud's makeshift stop for the leak, however, was acting splendidly, and Peggy mentally stored it away as a good idea for future use.
The delay was annoying to the point of being maddening, but there was no help for it. To have taken the air with heated cylinders would have been to court disaster. While they waited out in the lonely Nevada hills beside the single-track railroad, Peggy's mind held a lively vision of the train speeding toward Monument Rocks and the Assay Office, bearing with it the stolen papers carried by Red Bill's agent.
At last, after what seemed an eternity, they were ready to start once more. Peggy lost no time in taking to the air. With her every cylinder developing its full horse power, the aeroplane sky-rocketed upward at a rate that made Wandering William hold on for dear life.
"W-w-w-what speed are we making?"
The question was jolted out of the passenger.
"About sixty," Peggy flung back at him.
"Then we ought to overtake the train. I understand it only makes forty-five even on the most favorable bits of road, and the tracks are pretty rough out in this part of the country."
On through the night they roared. It was quite dark now, and Peggy had switched on the search light with which the aeroplane was provided. It cast a white pencil of light downward, showing the parallel bands of steel. Somewhere ahead of them, on those tracks, was the train. But how far ahead? As yet no gleam of its tail lights had come through the darkness.
All at once Peggy gave a triumphant cry.
"Look!" she cried. "It's the train!"
Far ahead gleamed two tiny red lights. They glowed through the darkness like the eyes of some wild animal. But the occupants of the aeroplane knew they were the tail lights of the train that was carrying the stolen papers to Monument Rocks.
Peggy tried to put on still more speed, but the aeroplane was doing its best. But fast as it was going, it seemed to crawl up on the train at a snail pace. The tail lights still kept far ahead.
But although the gain was slow, it was, steady. Before another dozen miles had been passed Peggy was flying above the train.
In the glare of the furnaces as the fireman jerked the doors open, Peggy could see the engineer and his mate gazing up at them with something of awe in their expressions. Aeroplanes were not as common in the far West as in the East.
Suddenly the girl noticed a figure emerge from the forward door of the front coach and clamber over the tender and drop lightly into the cab. A sudden gleam from the fire door served to light his features. Peggy recognized him instantly as the tall "romantic bandit," the one with the red sash.
The girl saw him lean toward the engineer and thrust something into his hand. It looked like a roll of bills. The next instant the train's speed perceptibly increased. It was all the aeroplane could do to keep up with it.
"He's given the engineer money, to go faster," exclaimed WanderingWilliam.
The tall figure now crawled back on the tender and gazed upward. His hand glided back to his hip. The next moment there was a flash, and a bullet zipped wickedly through the air past Peggy's ear.
"The coyote, he's firing at us!" cried Wandering William.
Z-i-n-g!
Another bullet sang by the speeding aeroplane. Apparently the fireman and the engineer could not hear the shooting above the noise of the flying engine, for they did not turn their heads. Presently the fireman began shoveling on coal at a terrific rate. Sparks and flame shot from the smokestack of the locomotive. They streaked the night with fire.
"Is he trying to kill us?" exclaimed Peggy as another shot winged past.
"I hardly think he'd risk that," rejoined Wandering William, "but what he's up to is almost as bad. He's trying to disable the aeroplane."
But before another could be fired the train began to slacken speed.Ahead and below the aeroplane could be seen a cluster of lights.
"Monument Rocks!" exclaimed Wandering William; "here's where we play the hand out."
Peggy, keeping a bright lookout for a good landing place, presently espied a sort of plaza in the center of the town. It was brilliantly illuminated by a number of arc lights and offered a fine spot for landing. She decided to risk a quick drop and swung the aeroplane downward at a rapid gait.
As the whirring of the propeller—like the drone of a giant locust—resounded over the town, people came pouring out from houses and shops to witness the descent. The crowd gathered so quickly that Peggy had difficulty to avoid hitting some of them. However, she managed to bring the aeroplane to a standstill without an accident.
A local policeman came up as they stopped, and to him Peggy entrusted the machine. Followed by Wandering William she darted off across the plaza and made for a cab stand immediately across it and just outside the depot. As she rushed up to the solitary rickety hack that was standing there and was about to step in a tall figure came rushing out of the station. The train had just pulled in, and long before its wheels had stopped revolving he had leaped from it.
"Get to one side," he shouted, grabbing Peggy's arm roughly and swinging her aside. "I guess I'm first on this deal."
"What do you mean," demanded Peggy angrily; "I had this cab first."
"But now I dispossess you of it this way!"
The ruffian had his hand raised to strike when something happened. A lithe, muscular form glided under the upraised fist, and the next moment there was a sharp crack as the newcomer's fist collided with the other's chin.
He went staggering backward and fell in a heap on the sidewalk.
A tall man with a broad brimmed hat came bustling up, followed by a small crowd attracted from the aeroplane by the disorder.
"Here, here, what's all this?" demanded the tall man in an authoritative tone. "What does this mean?"
"That this man I've just knocked down is under arrest for participation in the Laredo stage robbery and for numerous other crimes, including the larceny of some location papers he was about to file."
The words came from an athletic young man who had felled Peggy's assailant. The girl looked up at him. In the electric light there was something familiar and yet strangely unfamiliar about his features, and his keen, kindly eyes.
"Why," exclaimed Peggy wonderingly, "it's—it's—"
"Wandering William, minus his wig and goatee, otherwise Sam Kelly, of the United States Secret Service," rejoined the other with a merry laugh. "I guess I'll go out of the doctor business now, since I've nabbed one of the men I was after. Now then, you rascal," addressing the "romantic bandit," who had scrambled to his feet, "where are the rest of Red Bill's precious gang?"
"I don't know," sullenly rejoined the prisoner.
"Oh, yes you do; but first of all give me those papers."
"What papers?"
"The ones you brought here to file in the Assay Office."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes you do. Come now, or I'll ask the sheriff to search you."
With a very bad grace the outlaw dove into his pocket and handed over a bundle of papers. Wandering Will—we mean Detective Sam Kelly—took them and handed them to Peggy.
"Those are more yours than mine," he said; "we'll file them in the morning or at any time there's no hurry now."
"Now then," he resumed, turning to the tall outlaw whose arms were held by two of the sheriff's deputies, "are you going to answer my question, where is Red Bill and the rest of them now?"
"Where you can't reach 'em in time to queer their game," came in a voice of sullen triumph; "they're at Jim Bell's mine picking up gold and silver."
The sun rose redly and shone down into the arroyo on a group of sleepless, anxious persons. As the tall bandit had triumphantly announced, Jim Bell's mine was besieged. Since the evening before armed horsemen had surrounded it, but so far the little garrison had held out.
If Red Bill had had any idea that he was going to find Mr. Bell an easy prey he must have revised his opinion. But he knew that it was only a question of time till he could starve him out and take possession of the mine. He was unaware of the departure of the aeroplane for Blue Creek, otherwise he might have kept a better look out.
"I wonder if they got through?"
It was Mr. Bell who spoke, making a brave attempt at indifference to the danger that hedged them in.
Before anyone could reply a figure on horse-back appeared at the head of the arroyo. It was Red Bill himself. On his ankle was a bandage, but his amazing vitality had left no other traces of the bite of the rattlesnake.
"Wa-al, Jim Bell," he demanded, "for the third an' last time, air you goin' ter give in peaceable? Ain't no sense in holding out. We've got your stock. We'll tap your water hole if we can strike the vein and it won't take us long. We've got you whar we want you, an' if you've got ther brains uv a yearling calf you'll throw up the sponge and give us the mine."
"Not while I can raise a hand to fight you," rejoined Jim Bell boldly. "Ah! I might have expected some such trick!"
A bullet had whizzed past his ear and flattened itself on the rock behind the mining man. If he had not caught the quick movement of Red Bill's arm just in time the moment might have been his last.
"That's just a taste of what you'll git if you try to stick it out," bellowed Red Bill, and wheeling his horse he rode off.
Two or three times that morning Jimsy tried the experiment of raising a hat on a rifle barrel above the top of the little canyon. Each time a bullet pierced it, showing that the place was well watched.
Miss Sally lay on her cot in her tent. The venerable New England lady was literally half-dead from fright. Alverado, sullen eyed and apathetic, strode up and down the canyon all day muttering threats he was powerless to carry out. Jess, wide-eyed and white-faced, but brave, did her share of the work and kept Jimsy and Mr. Bell cheered up as well as she could.
But the suspense of awaiting the return of Peggy and Roy was the hardest to bear. If they had gotten through safely and the papers were filed, then, even if Red Bill captured the mine he could not work it. A few nuggets would be his reward. But if the aeroplane had been disabled or had reached Blue Creek too late, why then Red Bill held all the cards. Mr. Bell had reasoned this out with himself over and over again, while his brother sat, staring and disconsolate, playing endless games of solitaire.
It was past noon when Jimsy, who had taken an observation between two rocks, which acted as a bullet-proof sentry box, announced that the forces of the outlaws seemed to be massing.
"Looks as if they were going to make an attack," he said.
Mr. Bell clambered up and speedily confirmed the correctness ofJimsy's opinion.
"Get everything ready," he ordered; "there's just a chance we can stand them off. If not, we'll have to trust to their mercy."
A clatter of hoofs sounded above the arroyo and the next instant several horsemen appeared. Without knowing just what he was doing Jimsy, who had a rifle in his hands, pulled the trigger. He was amazed to see the giant form of Red Bill totter and reel in the saddle, and fall with a crash to the ground. The next instant horror at the idea that he had killed the man seized on him. His hands shook so that he almost dropped the rifle.
But there was little time for reflection. The sight of their leader's downfall seemed to drive the other outlaws to frenzy. They poured a leaden hail into the arroyo that must have exterminated every living thing in it if they had not sought shelter behind a mighty mass of boulders.
Hardly had they crouched there in temporary safety, before, far above them, came a familiar sound. The giant droning of an enormous beetle was what it seemed to resemble most. But Jess and Jimsy recognized it instantly.
"An aeroplane!" shouted Jess.
"It's Peggy and Roy!" cried Jimsy the next instant. Looking upward against the blue was outlined the scarab-like form of the monoplane.
At the same moment a terrific trampling of horses' hoofs sounded above. Shots and shouts rang out in wild confusion.
"What can be happening?" gasped Jess. Even Aunt Sally, cowering in her tent, summoned courage to peek forth. The sight they saw was an inspiring one. Bud and his horse hunters were riding down the outlaws in every direction.
While this was going on, the aeroplane swung lower. From it there stepped as it alighted, not Roy and Peggy, but Peggy and a strange young man whom nobody recollected having seen before. Without a word he bounced from the chassis as the aeroplane struck the ground, and, revolver in hand, set off in hot pursuit of Bud and his men, who, from horse hunters, had become man hunters.
The outlaws, outnumbered and outridden, were fain to cry for quarter. With the exception of three who escaped, the whole band was rounded up and made prisoners. Red Bill, who proved to be only slightly wounded, was captured by Sam Kelly himself.
The presence of the horse hunters on the scene at the opportune moment was soon explained by Peggy, who spent a busy hour relating all that had occurred since they left the camp. Roy, she explained, was still at the hotel in Blue Creek, but mending rapidly. She and the detective had encountered the horse hunters as the aeroplane was on its return journey, and, guessing from the tall bandit's story that the camp in the arroyo must be besieged, they enlisted the services of Bud and his followers.
There seems to be little more to tell of this portion of the Girl Aviators' adventures. The mine, in the developing of which they had played such striking parts, proved to be rich beyond even Mr. Bell's dreams, and when additional claims were taken up each of the young airship enthusiasts found that he or she had substantial shares in them.
The aeroplane line from the mine to the railroad, which had been Mr. Bell's original idea, proved to be a great success. Under Roy's tuition three young aviators, who were brought from the East, were instructed in managing their lines. Alverado, it will be recalled, recognized Sam Kelly as an old acquaintance during lawless times in Mexico—he has been appointed to a position in the government service, where he has done good work in aiding to rid the Big Alkali of the rascals that formerly infested it.
As for our young friends, when the aeroplane line was well established, they returned to the East, as Aunt Sally firmly refused to remain any longer in the far West, which she always scripturally refers to as a land of "the wicked and stiff-necked."
But their adventures were by no means over, as perhaps might be expected in the case of those who dare the air in fast flying machines. Their experience on the great Nevada desert was not destined to be the only time that the Girl Aviators and their chums proved their worth in seasons of danger and necessity.
Stirring aerial adventures lay ahead of them, still more exciting than the ones they had encountered while "On Golden Wings." What these were, and how our girls and boys acquitted themselves in facing and surmounting fresh difficulties and dangers—as well as their lighter moments—will be related in full in the next volume of this series: