Rita Part 11

"Lie down behind him!" Delmonte commanded. "So! now, still."

He knelt behind the dead horse, facing the advancing Spaniards. The revolver cracked again, and the foremost horseman dropped, shot through the head. The troop was now close upon them; Rita could see the fierce faces, and the gleam of their wolfish teeth. Delmonte fired again, and another man dropped, but still the rest came on. There was no help, then?

Delmonte looked at Rita; she closed her eyes, expecting death. The air was full of cries and curses. But--what other sound was that? Not from before, but behind them--round the turn of the road--some one was singing! In all the hurry of her flying thoughts Rita steadied herself to listen.

"For it's whoop-la! whoop!

Git along, my little dogies; For Wyoming shall be your new home!--

"What in the Rockies is going on here, anyhow?"

Rita turned her head. A horseman had come around the bend, and checked his horse, looking at the scene before him. A giant rider on a giant horse. The moon shone on his brown uniform, his slouched felt hat, and the carbine laid across his saddle-bow. Under the slouched hat looked out a bronzed face, grim and bearded, lighted by eyes blue as Delmonte's own.

Rita gave one glance. "Help!" she cried, "America, help!"

"America's the place!" said the horseman. He waved his hand to some one behind him, then put his horse to the gallop. Next instant he was beside them.

Delmonte started to his feet, revolver in hand. "U. S. A.?" he said.

"You're just in time, uncle. I'm glad to see you."

"Always like to be on time at a party," said the rough rider, levelling his carbine. "My fellows are--in short, here they are!"

There was a scurry of hoofs, a shout, and thirty hors.e.m.e.n swept around the curve and came racing up.

"What's up, Cap'n Jim?" cried one. "Have we lost the fun? Gringos, eh?

hooray!"

The Spaniards had checked their horses. Four of them lay dead in the road, and several others were wounded. At sight of the mounted troop, they stopped and held a hurried consultation, then turned their horses and rode away.

The giant looked at Delmonte. "Want to follow?" he asked. "This is your hand, comrade."

"I want a horse!" said Captain Jack. "Miss Montfort,"--he turned to Rita, who had risen to her feet, and stood pale but quiet,--"these are our own good country-men. If I leave you with them but a few moments--"

"Hold on!" said the big man. "What did you call the young lady?"

Delmonte stared. "This is Miss Montfort," he said, rather formally.

"Not Rita!" cried the giant. "Pike's Peak and Glory Gulch! Don't tell me it's Rita!"

"Oh, yes! yes!" cried Rita, running forward with outstretched hands. "It is--I am! and you--oh, I know, I know. You are Peggy's big brother. You are Cousin Jim!"

"That's what they said when they christened me!" said Cousin Jim.

CHAPTER XIII.

MEETINGS AND GREETINGS.

It was no time for explanations. Jim Montfort put out a hand like a pine knot, and gave Rita's fingers a huge shake.

"Glad to find you, cousin," he said. "I've been looking for you. Now, what's up over there?" He nodded in the direction of the fire.

"A _candela_," said Delmonte, briefly. "I must get back; there are women there. If one of your men will catch me that horse--"

"But you are wounded!" cried Rita. "Cousin, he is shot in the arm. Do not let him go!"

Delmonte laughed. "It's nothing, Miss Montfort," he said; "but nothing at all, I a.s.sure you. When we get to camp you shall put some carbolic acid on it, and tie it up for me; that's field practice in Cuba. I shall be proud to be your first field patient." He spoke in his usual laughing way; but suddenly his face changed, and he leaned toward her swiftly, his hand on the horse's mane. "I shall never forget this time--our ride together," he said. "I hope you will not forget either--please? And now, Miss Montfort, I have no further right over you. I would have done my best, I think you know that; but--I must give you into your cousin's protection. You will remain here?"

"Of course she will!" said Cousin Jim, who had heard only the last words. "I'll go with you, comrade. Raynham, Morton, you will mount guard by the lady."

The troopers saluted, and raised their hats civilly to Rita, inwardly cursing their luck. Because they owned the next ranch to Jim Montfort, was that any reason why they should lose all the fun? and why could not girls stay at home where they belonged?

But Rita herself cried out and clasped her hands, and ran to her cousin.

"Oh, Cousin Jim--Senor Delmonte--let me go with you! Please, please let me go back. My poor Manuela--Marm Prudence--they may be hurt, wounded.

There can be no danger with all these brave men. Cousin, I have been in a camp hospital, I know how to dress wounds. I can be quiet--Senor Delmonte, tell him I can be quiet!"

She looked eagerly at Delmonte.

"I can tell him that you are the bravest girl I ever saw," he said.

"But, you have been through a great deal. I don't like to have you go back among those rascals."

James Montfort stroked his brown beard thoughtfully.

"Guess it's safe enough," he said at last. "Guess there's enough of us to handle 'em. Don't know but on the whole she'll be better off with us. My sister Peggy wouldn't like to miss any circus there was going, would she, little girl? Catch another of those beasts for the lady, Bill!"

Rita, with one of her quick gestures, caught his great hand in both hers. "Oh, you good cousin!" she cried. "You dear cousin! You are the very best and the very biggest person in the world, and I love you."

"Well, well, well!" said Cousin Jim, somewhat embarra.s.sed. "There, there! so you shall, my dear; so you shall. But as for being big, you should see Lanky 'Liph of Bone Gulch. Now there--but here is your horse, missy."

The horses of the dead Spaniards had been circling about them, more or less shyly. Two of them were quickly caught by the rough riders, and Rita and Delmonte mounted. As they did so, both glanced toward the spot where lay the brave horse that had borne them so well.

"It was for life indeed, Aquila!" said Captain Jack, softly. His eyes met Rita's, and she saw the brightness of tears in them. Next moment they were galloping back to the _residencia_.

They came only just in time. Not ten minutes had pa.s.sed since they left the courtyard, but in that time the savage Spaniards had done their work well. The house itself was in flames, and burning fiercely. Good Don Annunzio lay dead, carbine in hand, on the steps of his ruined home.

Beside him lay the Creole youth in whose charge Delmonte had left Manuela. The lad was still alive, for as Delmonte bent from the saddle above him he raised his head.

"I did my best, my captain!" he said. "They were too many."

"Where are they?" asked Delmonte and Montfort in one breath.

The boy pointed down the road; raised his hand to salute, and fell back, dead.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "NOW AGAIN IT WAS A RIDE FOR LIFE."]

Now again it was a ride for life--not their own life this time. Rita had clean forgotten herself. The thought of her faithful friend and servant in the hands of the merciless Spaniards turned her quick blood to fire.

She galloped steadily, her eyes fixed on the cloud of dust only a few hundred yards ahead of them, which told where the enemy was galloping, too.