Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders on the Great American Desert Part 13

The leader of the newcomers sprang to his feet raging. Hippy Wingate, now close to the man, pushed the flat of his hand against the fellow's face.

"Get off my desert, you imitation rough-neck," invited Hippy sweetly. In the same breath he added in a savage tone: "Keep your hand away from that gun!" emphasizing his command by thrusting the muzzle of his own revolver against the desert rider's stomach.

The visitor's back was toward his companions, so that they did not get the full import of what was taking place, but they looked their amazement when they saw their leader turn his back on Hippy.

They did not know that he was doing this in obedience to Lieutenant Wingate's order, nor that the leader's revolver at that moment was in Hippy's hand, Hippy having slipped it from its holster while still pressing his own weapon against the man who had ducked him.

"I told you to get off my desert," said Hippy, incisively. "I've changed my mind. I'm going to kick you off!"

Lieutenant Wingate retreated a step, sprang clear of the ground, and with a kick that had sent many a ball over the goal, he kicked the desert leader into the water hole. Hi Lang was not so considerate. As the fellow scrambled to his feet, Hi laid him flat on his back with a blow between the eyes that instantly put the fellow to sleep.

The battle between the two parties of desert travelers was on in a second.

CHAPTER IX

PIRATES GET A HOT RECEPTION

The desert riders, who had been laughing over their leader's downfall after Hippy jerked him from his pony, suddenly awakened to a realization that the scene they had witnessed had ceased to become a joke.

The rider nearest to the water hole whipped out his revolver and fired, but the bullet went over Hippy's head for the very good reason that, expecting this very thing, he had ducked.

Hippy fired in return, hit the pony, and the rider tumbled off as the pony went down.

Hi Lang was out of the water hole in a twinkling.

"Keep your hands off your guns!" he shouted to the visitors, drawing his own weapon.

A bullet went through his hat. Another spun him around as it furrowed the fleshy part of his left arm, but the man who had fired the second shot got his reward in the next second. A bullet from Grace Harlowe's revolver went through his shoulder.

"Let them have it!" commanded Hi Lang. "They're out to do us!"

Two rifles, in the hands of Anne and Nora, banged from the tent in which they, with Emma Dean, were crouching, waiting for orders to take a hand in the battle. Bullets were flying rather thickly, but the desert riders' ponies, under the touching up they were getting from the revolvers of the defenders, were making careful shooting impossible for their riders. The defenders had the advantage of a steady footing under them, and they were shooting with extreme care, trying their best not to kill any one, but endeavoring to punish the attackers, and to keep themselves from getting killed.

The grilling fire was getting too hot for the desert ruffians, handy as they were with weapons and horses. Several, too, had been hit or unhorsed, though the Overland party did not really know how much damage they had done to the attackers.

"Shoot their ponies from under them!" commanded Hi Lang. "It's the only way."

"No, no! Please, not that," protested Grace. "The ponies haven't harmed us."

The guide shrugged his shoulders and, taking quick aim at a rider who was jerking his rifle from the saddle boot, shot the fellow out of his saddle.

Hi Lang's next shot downed a pony, its rider being thrown heavily to the ground, where he lay stunned from the fall. Four men were now down and a fifth, the leader of the party of ruffians, was still in the water tank where Lieutenant Wingate had kicked him and where the guide had then put him to sleep. The leader had long since recovered consciousness, but, being unarmed, he wisely decided to remain where he was, knowing very well that, were he to try to reach his companions or his mount, he would be shot down.

There were now only three mounted men of the attacking party left and these suddenly began galloping away from the water hole.

"Rifles!" called Hi.

Grace and Elfreda sped to their tent and quickly returned carrying four rifles and ammunition. The guide had instantly divined the purpose of the attackers in drawing off. They wished to get out of revolver range of the Overlanders and then use their rifles on them, but by the time the desert ruffians turned, facing the scene of their late battle, Hi, Hippy, Grace and Elfreda were shooting steadily with their rifles, pouring a hot fire into them.

One ruffian was seen to sway in his saddle and pitch to the ground. One of his companions gathered him up, then, with the wounded man across a saddle, the two remaining bandits galloped away, leaving their fellows to whatever fate might be in store for them.

"Cowards!" growled Hippy Wingate.

"No. Common prudence," answered the guide. "Help me get the fellows who are down. Look out that they aren't playing possum.

Keep your gun in your hand and watch them. Mrs. Gray, will you follow a short distance behind us, so that you may have all the wounded men under observation?"

"Yes, Mr. Lang."

"If you see a suspicious move from any of them, shoot!"

"Yes, sir. Come along, Elfreda, your services probably will be needed. Mr. Lang, you were hit. May we not do something for you first?"

The guide shook his head and strode over to the water hole, into which he peered.

"You stay where you are!" he commanded sternly, to which there was no reply from the leader of the ruffians, who sat scowling up at him. "Mrs. Nesbit! Watch that fellow and if he tries to get out, drill him! He isn't fit to live anyway."

The two men, with Grace and Elfreda following, went out to disarm and examine the men who had been downed. They found that two had merely been stunned by falls, two others having been wounded in shoulders and arms, with numerous bullet holes through their clothing.

Elfreda examined their wounds and announced that none was seriously hurt, but that the men ought to be taken where they could have proper attention. Hi Lang laughed.

"Fiddlesticks!" he scoffed. "The only way you can kill this sort of critter is to kill 'em. We'll fix 'em up and send 'em on. The ones who got away will be waiting for 'em, so don't worry about that."

"I shall dress their wounds and give them whatever further attention I can before you send them away, Mr. Lang," replied Elfreda firmly.

Grace nodded her approval.

"Lieutenant, help me carry them in. It is wise to keep them well bunched, you know," advised the guide.

While he and Hippy were doing this, Grace watched the other men.

Elfreda returned to camp with the first ruffian, and there dressed his wounds, gave the man water and made him as comfortable as possible. She treated the second wounded man with similar consideration.

"I do not see that there is anything at all the matter with these men," announced Elfreda after examining those who had been stunned by falls. "They should be able to take their wounded companions back with them. Are there enough ponies left to carry all?"

"I reckon. They're out yonder browsing on the sage. I'll catch them up and stake them down here. When you say the word, we will start these critters off, and good riddance it will be."

Just before dark Elfreda "discharged" her patients, as she expressed it, and they were led to their ponies, a.s.sisted to mount, and told to get out as fast as horseflesh would carry them.

Not a word of information had the guide been able to get from any of them, not even their names nor why they were on the desert.

"I've seen that cayuse before," declared Hi, referring to the leader, and regarding the rapidly disappearing hors.e.m.e.n with a deep frown on his face. "I can't remember where, but one of these days I'll think of it. Too bad we can't turn them over to a sheriff, but we're too far out to go back now."

"That gang was looking for trouble when they rode up," averred Hippy.

"Yes, I reckon they were after us. Somebody sent them after us, too. Got any ideas on the subject, Mrs. Gray?"

"No, sir. I am thinking of you at the moment. Where were you hit?"