Dorothy on a Ranch

by Evelyn Raymond

  CHAPTER III

  THE MIDNIGHT SEARCHING PARTY

  The night was growing late and there were anxious hearts at"Roderick's." The four-in-hand had arrived hours before, and Silent Petehad also brought his party safely in--to the mutual relief of himselfand Miss Milliken, the latter really surprised to find she had arrivedsound in body and limb. She had promptly retired to the little chamberassigned herself and Helena, only to reappear in fresh distress.

  "My suit-case with my night-things! I can't find it anywhere. The onethey gave me has a lot of boys' things in it-all jumbled together. I'dlike my suit-case, please. I'm worn out with that awful ride and if I'vegot to repeat it to-morrow, I must get to rest;" but as the buxom maidto whom she appealed paid her scant attention, she turned to Helena withher wail: "Oh, Miss Helena! _Won't_ you make them give me the rightcase?"

  The emphasis put on the "won't" suggested a desperate need, but merelyannoyed her young mistress, who requested:

  "Don't make a nuisance of yourself, Milly. The loss of a suit-case isnothing compared to--Oh! if Dolly were only safely here!"

  "She will be, of course. Haven't I, with my nerves, lived through thatride? But, you don't understand, dear, I _want my things_. I can't weara boy's pajamas--all mussed up, at that. I want, I want to go to bed."

  "Then, for goodness' sake--go!" cried Monty Stark, who had come up tothe pair. "That'll give us a rest, too."

  "I shall have to sit up all night, then," still moaned the lady, "foryour case isn't to be found either, Miss Helena."

  Then finding no greater sympathy from her mistress than from that saucyboy, the governess betook herself out of the way. She was the only oneof the party which had so gaily left Denver that now cared for anythingexcept the appearance down the road of the missing buckboard.

  Molly and Leslie, congenial spirits, had tried to laugh off theiranxiety and to convince the others that everything was "all right, ofcourse."

  "Likely Dolly Doodles has discovered some new sort of flowers somewhereand has wandered off to get them. She's always doing that kind ofthing," Molly assured her hostess, who had gently answered:

  "We'll hope it's only that. But she'd scarcely look for wild flowers atnight, nor do anything to make us anxious by her delay. Our Dorothy isa very considerate girl and I wish--they would come."

  Linking her arm within Helena's, the lady set her steps to suit thegirl's and resumed the pacing up and down the long piazza. The house wasa one-storied building, stretching along the roadway to a size that wasunusual for such a locality. It had been added to at different periods,as need arose; each addition being either a little lower or higher thanits neighbor, according to the cash in hand, but invariably with thecontinuance of the comfortable piazza. This now afforded a longpromenade, and all the people gathered at the wayside inn that night,were using it to walk off their impatience at the delay of "TenderfootSorrel" to bring in his team.

  Supper had been put back till it was spoiled, and having beentelegraphed for beforehand, good Mrs. Roderick had wasted her bestefforts upon it. But, at last, seeing Monty and Molly peering throughthe kitchen windows in a hungry sort of way, Mr. Ford ordered it servedand all repaired to the dining room, feeling that the meal would be afarce, yet something with which to kill time.

  However, the long ride in the keen air had given all a fine appetite anddespite the landlady's laments over the "dried-up stuff," the table wasnearly cleared of its food when they left it. Moreover, everyone feltbetter and brighter for the refreshment and so hopeful now for thespeedy arrival of the laggards, that Mr. Ford suggested to the waitress:

  "Just have a few things kept warm for the others. There'll be four ofthem. If they aren't here within a half-hour, now, I'll go back insearch of them. Something may have happened to the wagon and they leftto come on a-foot."

  "Dear, did you ask the man you call Silent Pete if he passed themanywhere along the road?"

  "Surely, I did that the first thing. He had neither passed nor seenthem, he said."

  "Well, I'm going to interview him again. Come on, Miss Molly, to thestable with me," cried Leslie.

  "'Molly,' without the 'Miss,' please, and I'm ready enough! It seems asif I must be doing something, for everybody is looking so worried," sheanswered, catching his outstretched hand and racing with him down thelong porch and around to the stables in the rear.

  Silent Pete had not gone to the loft where the workmen slept. He hadwrapped himself in a blanket and, with another for a pillow, had settledhimself in a corner of the loose box next the stalls where his teamstood. He was so devoted to them that he couldn't leave them alone in astrange stable, though from the snores which already came from him hedidn't seem a great protection to anything.

  But Silent Pete was wily. He had heard the voices of the pair withoutthe building, asking a groom to tell where Pete could be found, and hadresented being disturbed. He had done his day's work, he had nointention of joining in any search that might be made for thedelinquents, and he promptly pretended slumber. But he hadn't reckonedupon Leslie's persistence nor his own uneasy conscience.

  "Wake up there, Peter, if that's your name! I'm your boss's son, and Iwant a word with you. Wake up, man!"

  The snores deepened. Rarely had the nose of mortal man emitted suchear-splitting sounds as now issued from the nostrils of the ranchman, asLeslie shoved aside the sliding door of the loose box and steppedwithin.

  "Here, Molly-without-the-Miss, take the lantern and hold it so I canfind the head inside that roll of blankets! Feet are big enough. Can'tmiss them," said the lad, stumbling over the protruding boots of thesleeper. "I'll take this pitchfork and prod him up a bit. Hello, Pete! Isay, Pete, you've earned your name one way--but you hardly deserve itanother. 'Silent!' You'll certainly keep the horses awake and--Wake up,I say! You shall!"

  Leslie thrust the pitchfork into the boards of the floor souncomfortably near that snoring nose that Pete hitched aside and soadmitted himself awake. Molly ran into the box and held the lantern low,while the boy squatted at the teamster's head and thumped it soundly.Both were giggling, which incensed their victim still further, and hesuddenly tossed off his blanket with such force that it hit Molly's faceand made her jump away, while Leslie ordered:

  "Quit that! Don't you know how to treat a lady?"

  There was no answer, save a frown directed toward the laughing girl, andthe lad demanded:

  "You're to open your lips and tell us what you think has happened tothat tenderfoot driver and his team. Why doesn't he come in? They sayyou're the oldest driver round, know the most about the roads, ortrails, and your opinion's wanted. Give it quick, because--Well,there'll be some thing doin' if you do know anything and don't tell it.I don't understand why I suspect you're hiding things but I do; unlessit's that grudge I heard some men say you had against the 'Sorrel'fellow. Now, you talk. Where do you think that buckboard is?"

  "Gone to smash."

  Molly screamed at this cool answer, and Leslie threatened his pitchfork.But it was neither of these things which moved Pete to tersely disclosehis private opinion:

  "I know nothin'. I guess shortcut and destruction. Lem knows the trail.T. Sorrel ain't wuth huntin', nor them boys. Little gal--might--Talk toLem. Clear out."

  Having relieved his conscience of this much information the man buriedhis face again in his blanket and resumed his interrupted repose. Lesliewasted one moment of indignation upon him, as a heartless human being,then hurried out of the place and to his father.

  When consulted, Lem Hunt hesitated for an instant only, then advised:

  "Best get right a-doin' things! No wagons, but fresh hosses and as manyof 'em as want to go. Jiminy cricket! If T. Sorrel branched off wherePete thinks he did he's done for hisself an' all consarned. Let's besteppin'!"

  Fortunately, there were plenty of fresh horses at "Roderick's" thatnight. A drove of them were corralled behind the inn, _en route_ from adistant ranch to Denver, and thence eastward to market. All of them werewell broken, to the sadd
le at least, and the best were promptly led outfor Mr. Ford's selection, leaving his own beasts to rest for the nextday's travel. Also, the drivers eagerly offered their own company,mounting without their saddles, which they insisted upon lending to theless experienced riders.

  Excitement followed Lemuel's advice to "Be steppin'," and a very fewminutes' of bustling activity saw the cavalcade lined up before the innwith him for leader. It numbered Mr. Ford, Herbert and Monty, of thatparty; with Noll Roderick himself and three drovers. That Leslie had notjoined the riders was due to his mother's anxiety for his health, thoughhis father had rather favored his going. The lad had been indignant atthe "molly-coddling" and had hurt the tender heart of the Gray Lady bysome angry words. Then he had walked away to the extreme end of the longpiazza, whence he watched the disappearance of the rescuers down themoonlight road. As the horses' footfalls died in the distance, hisgrumblings were interrupted by a light touch on his arm.

  "Come around this corner, boy! Hurry up!"

  He turned to find Molly Breckenridge beside him, her finger on her lip,and a wild light in her eyes. She was trembling with excitement andcould scarcely wait to whisper:

  "I'm going, too!"

  "Girl, how can you?"

  "Horseback, course. Roderick's daughter's lending me her own pony.Mattie, her name is, and she was all for going with the others but hermother can't spare her. I told her I was just crazy, thinking of myDorothy; hurt maybe, lost anyway, and nobody but a lot of men to speakto, even if they find her. Do you s'pose I'll desert her? That I lovebest of all the world? I guess not. I'm a Breckenridge! Good-by!"

  There was mischief in her eyes as she turned to leave him and Leslielaughed:

  "Course! You're thoroughbred--I saw that right away. And you're myguest! Could I, as a gentleman, let you ride off alone on a lonely roadat night? Hurray! You're A 1! You're rippin'!"

  Molly sped around the house. She wasn't familiar, as yet, with Leslie's"rippin'" but she knew he'd approved of her wild prank and would joinher in it. She was a far better rider than he, for in her own southernhome she had been reared to the saddle and was never happier than whenshe had a good horse at command. Mattie's pony was swift and easy, andMolly sprang to its back with the feeling that now she was "really doingsomething," and that very speedily she would have her arms about hermissing friend and all would be well. She had also begged Mattie to geta mount for Leslie, forseeing that he would follow her--exactly as hedid. Another instant, and the pair were off along a little by-path,toward the main road and the pursuit of the searching party. As theystruck into the smoother going Molly touched the calico pony with herwhip and called to Leslie:

  "Come on! Hurry up! We'll have to ride like the wind to catch up withthe rest!"

  "All right--I'll do my best but--but this--old nag--wait a little bit!"

  Molly wheeled about and did so, but the delay made her extremelyimpatient, and with some contempt she remarked, as the lad camealongside:

  "Why, I supposed you could ride! You looked like a boy who knew how!"

  "So I do! But this thing I'm on--Call this a horse? I'd rather have amule! How dared they give me such a thing?"

  In her hurry Molly had not observed the animal which had stood saddledat the stable door, and that now seemed as ugly and tiresome a beast asher own little pony was fine. Pity then banished vexation and sheexclaimed:

  "You poor fellow! I don't believe Matty meant you to have that beast.But, come on, anyway. Maybe he'll warm up after a bit, and I'll takethat back--that I said about your riding. I reckon you're all right.Anybody must be who can stick on the rack-o'-bones you've got. Touch himup a little--I'll set the pace."

  Away she sped while the gaunt creature which Leslie bestrode planted hisforefeet firmly on the ground and refused to lift them thence. Molly wasfast passing around a curve in the road and would then be out of sight,and Leslie's temper rose to its height. He forgot everything except hisown awkward position and the fact that his lively young guest could havethe laugh on him when that night's tale was told.

  "Oh! you hateful beast! You won't go, eh? Well, go you shall! Hear me?Take that--and that--and--THAT!"

  Blows rained hard and fast, till the lash of the whip gave out, and thebutt took its place. Then, as if the astonished horse had just arousedto the state of things, it bolted! and the way its old heels picked upthat road was the most amazing thing of all that evening's happenings.

  Then, indeed, did Leslie prove himself a better horseman than he looked,and, for all time to come, his full ability to "stick." Riding ahead ata smart pace, but not her pony's best, Molly heard the footfalls behindher and swerved out of the way--not a minute too soon! Evidently, themaligned "rack-o'-bones" would otherwise have ridden her down. He passedher like a whirlwind and then--she after him. Followed, a race to beremembered! The big horse keeping the lead, the little "calico"pit-pattering along behind in a hopeless effort to get even.

  Thus for what seemed an endless time, the long dusty road was desolateof any travellers except this pair of runaways. Sometimes a coyoteyelped in the distance; occasionally some creeping thing barred thetrack before them; and a screech owl sent its blood-curdling cries intotheir ears. Otherwise they were alone in the wilderness and the night,and beyond speaking distance even of one another.

  The effect was to set each culprit thinking. How wild a thing they haddone! How thoughtless, how selfish! What fresh anxiety they had added tothe troubled hearts back there at "Roderick's," as soon as their absencewas discovered! How flat their jolly adventure had fallen!

  Molly had bound Mattie to secrecy, and there was that about the westerngirl that convinced the other that the secret would be kept. If Mrs.Roderick did guess what had become of them, and said so, it would be nocomfort to Lady Gray and Helena; and the longer Molly pondered thematter, the more ashamed and terrified she felt. What would AuntLucretia say? And what her father--could he see his madcap at thatmoment?

  In a bitter reaction of feeling the girl dropped her head upon thepony's neck, though still mechanically urging the willing creature toher utmost speed. Her thoughts were far away when, suddenly, she felt acheck upon the rein and lifted her startled face.

  "Why, Leslie! You scared me!"

  "Were you asleep?"

  "No."

  "What then? Your head was down. The 'calico' was taking her own way.What's the matter?"

  "It's none--I mean, if you must know, I was crying."

  "Oh! horrors! Why?"

  "Because I've done such a dreadful thing. It was wicked. I had no rightand--and--"

  "Yes, I know. You were frightened. Well, I was, too."

  Molly straightened her shoulders and pretended contempt, saying:

  "I didn't know as gentlemen--'thoroughbreds,' you know--westernthoroughbreds ever were fr-fri-ghtened. What--was--that?"

  A curious cry had reached them and Molly finished her speech in awhisper. The horses, also, had heard it and had thrust back their earsin fear.

  Just there the road skirted the edge of a forest and the cry had comefrom its depths. They peered into the shadows but could see nothing, andedging the pony close to Beelzebub, as Leslie's mount was named, Mollyrepeated her question.

  "Likely a wild cat, puma, or wolf. I don't know," he answered.

  "Have you heard it before? Was it that scared you?"

  "No, I was afraid something would happen to you, left behind, alone. Ifancy we're in no danger that way--" pointing forestward. "But--"

  "'But'--what? If you thought about me why didn't you come back to lookfor me?"

  "I couldn't. Once he got in motion this beast wouldn't stop till he--randown like a clock."

  "Pooh! You should go to a riding school! Let's go on, now, or else back.I can't stop here with lions and panthers yelling at us! I--I--Oh! docome on! But keep tight hold of the pony's rein. Don't get away from meagain."

  "I shan't. I can't."

  "Oh! come!"

  "I tell you I can't. We're planted."

  Molly'
s lip quivered, but she restrained her tears and tremulouslyentreated:

  "Oh, Leslie, don't! I can't stand teasing now. This isn't funny--not abit. Shall we go back? Or try to overtake the others?"

  "We can't do either one. I tell you we're simply stuck. Settled down andgone to housekeeping. Beelzebub has finished. He won't take anotherstep. Fact. We've got to make the best of it. If that pony of yours wasas big as a decent calf we might ride double and leave this wretch tostarve and think it over at his leisure. I don't see why that girl gaveme such a creature. Let's get off and sit down on that rock and wait.Something's bound to happen--sometime--if we live long enough. Thefolks'll come back this same road, course."

  He jumped to the ground and held out his hand to her but, for a moment,she would not dismount; then as he coolly left her and walked to therock he had pointed out, she slipped from her saddle and followed him.But she still held fast to her bridle rein and the pony offered noresistance to the leading, though the big brute of the profane nameremained in the middle of the road, his forefeet pointed forward, hishind ones backward, his whole attitude one of stubborn ugliness.

  Leslie had reached a point where the ludicrous side of things appearedand he remarked:

  "Looks like the potato-horses I used to make when I was a kid, withmatches stuck in for legs. I wonder how long he'll stand there!"

  Molly smiled faintly. At present there were no alarming sounds from theforest and the boy's apparent indifference to their lonely situationrelieved her own fears.

  "Well, it's an 'ill wind that blows nobody good,' you know. That Beelzything is the toughest I ever rode. He's bumped me up and down till Iache all over and this rock is actually soft in comparison. Here. I'llput some of these big ferns for a cushion for you, and, after all, we'llmeet our folks just as soon by waiting as by going on. They must comeback, you know, sure as fate. This is the only road leads to'Roderick's', I heard them say. Hello! Why--Beelzebub, good boy!"

  A whim had seized the obstinate animal to approach his late rider andfawn about his feet, nibbling the scant grass which grew there, as thepony was already doing. In surprise at this change both Leslie and Mollylaughed and forgot, for the time, that they were in such a desolateplace at so late an hour.

  The horse's action reminded Molly of an animal her father had once ownedand she began to tell stories about him; stories that the boy matchedwith marvelous ones of his own. That some of these were fiction made nodifference. Molly disdained to believe them but they served to pass thetime as well as any better ones might have done. Indeed, fear had nowleft them. The rest after their hard ride was pleasant and both feltthat they were simply waiting for their friends' return.

  So they sat on, as composedly as if they were safe at home, till Molly'seyes, fixed upon the distant road, suddenly grew startled again.

  Leslie's latest yarn had been of an Indian outbreak, or uprising, ofrecent date and in this neighborhood. He had heard it that evening fromthe men at the inn and had not paused to consider how unlikely was suchan incident so near to the city of Denver. In truth, the "boys" hadinvented the whole story, just for the sake of impressing the young"tenderfeet"--Monty, Herbert and Leslie; and it had satisfied thejokers that these youngsters "swallered it hull."

  But Leslie had a gift for dramatic recital and listening to him theaffair seemed very real to the girl. The scene and the hour suggested apossible repetition of the occurrence; and as there now came to her earsthe sound of distant hoofbeats on the road, and presently, to her eyesthe sight of a company of horsemen approaching, she gave one terrifiedcry and darted into the forest behind her.

  "The Indians! The--Indians! They'll kill us!"

  Moved by his own eloquence and still believing the story he had beentold, the boy followed her flight. He did not even turn to look whereshe had pointed but, with a headlong rush, dashed into the wood and intoa mass of briars which threw him face downward in their midst. Also, atthat same instant both the deserted horses set up a continued neighing,which confirmed the fears of their riders who, both now prone upon theground, felt that their last hour had come.