One step inside she stopped and glanced around. She had had the strangest premonition when she stepped over the threshold. It was as if she had a warning of something dreadful about to happen. The room—there was only one—was empty of all but its meager furnishings, a table and two makeshift chairs standing before the fireplace. A saddle and rifle lay in one corner. On the table were a few dirty dishes. Someone had been here lately, if they were not here now. She had seen no horse when she tethered her own, but there was a saddle and, more ominous still, the rifle. Where was the owner?
The rain was teeming down outside and she went to the window to stare out. A regular cloudburst! Tomorrow a lot of the little streams they had passed would be raging, swirling rivers. She was glad this cabin had been here or else she would have been drenched. She smiled as she thought of how her camp mates might be receiving this sudden rain. They would no doubt be huddled in the waterproof tents, but nevertheless they would be fuming with disgust. It was no pleasure camping out when it rained. She looked up at the gray skies, impatient to be off and away from this cabin that filled her with that strange, unreasonable fear. Why should she feel fear the moment she stepped into the place? There was no one here. Not a thing to frighten her. Yet she was filled with a strange uneasiness. Evidently her horse had felt it too, for when she had tied him he whinnied faintly and nudged her arm with mute appeal. She had thought nothing of it at the time, but now it came back to her with ominous warning. Animals had keen instinct and the horse had felt a distrust of this place. She wished heartily it would stop raining so she could go on. She didn’t want to get wet and she didn’t want to stay here.
She shook her shoulders impatiently and went over to inspect the rifle in the corner. Probably she was imagining things. It was the first time she had let her imagination make her afraid of anything. She was being silly she told herself again sternly. Most likely this cabin had been deserted for a long time. But when she picked up the rifle she knew that wasn’t so. The rifle was clean and recently oiled. Too, it was loaded. It was the same make rifle as Tom carried in his saddle sheath and quite without knowing why she took the cartridges out of the barrel to examine them. At the same moment she looked up through the window to the trail she had so recently left for this shelter.
Terror gripped her for a moment. Horsemen were issuing from the thick growth of trees and there was no disputing the identity of the first man. It was the bank bandit who had held Val and her prisoners in that other cabin. She dropped the rifle over the saddle where it had been and looked about wildly for a means of escape. Were they close enough to see her if she slipped out of the door? Of course they were! In the rear wall was a window. She placed a chair beneath it and a moment later was squeezing through the opening. Rain or no rain, she preferred to get wet to remaining in the cabin to receive those men. How had they managed to elude the Sheriff and his men so long? Were the bank bandits connected with the rustlers who had been stealing cattle from the K Bar O? Gale made a shrewd guess that they were.
When she jumped from the window to the wet earth Gale ran immediately to where her pony was tied and, slipping her arm through the reins, led him back into the woods to the rear of the cabin. She was sure the thick growth of trees and brush would shield them from view and that proved to be the case. The trees overhead were a little protection from the rain, but even so, when she had been in the open five minutes she was soaked. She had left her slicker in the camp and now she wished fervently she had let it remain rolled behind her saddle. She heard the thunder of hoofs and sound of voices as the men she had eluded dismounted at the cabin and entered it. Surprised, she looked down at her hand. She still had the two shells from the rifle clutched in her fingers. She had departed in such haste that she didn’t have time to replace them; indeed, she had not even thought of them. Now she shoved them deep into her breeches’ pocket and huddled beside her horse.
It would be better to get into the saddle and ride than to stand here in the rain, but she was sure the sound of her horse’s hoofs would be clearly audible to those men in the cabin and they would be sure to investigate. Too, she had an idea. It would be a big help to her uncle if she could, in some fashion, determine if these were the men who were stealing cattle from the ranchers. Perhaps, now that she had stumbled upon their cache, she could spy on them and learn something of interest to the authorities. It was worth trying. She would wait until it grew dark and then sneak up and endeavor to listen to their conversation and to obtain a glimpse of the men within the cabin.
Her horse whinnied softly and she put an admonishing hand on his muzzle while her heart raced with apprehension. Suppose one of the men heard him and came to see— But they were undoubtedly too busy and besides, they might think it one of their own horses. Still, it would be best to be on the safe side. She led her horse farther into the woods and there tied him to a cottonwood. She was hungry. She remembered she had had only a light lunch but she remembered, too, that she had put something in her saddle bag just in case she wanted an afternoon snack. It came in handy now. She found two lumps of sugar, also, which the horse promptly snuggled from her hand.
Another thought came to her and she bent down to her boot. Her little revolver still nestled in its customary place. She might have use for it tonight, she reflected. Suppose the men were the rustlers and suppose she did make sure of that fact. How was she to notify the authorities? By the time she got back to her camp and told Jim and Tom and they summoned the Sheriff or some of his men the rustlers would have ample time to get away. What was she to do? With a shrug of her shoulders she dismissed the thought. Everything would take care of itself she was sure.
CHAPTER XI
Surprise
The rain had stopped. Darkness was over the world and stars blinked solemnly from their heavenly nest. The rain had brought coolness and a light wind that stirred the leaves of the trees.
Round the campfire were gathered all the girls but the absent Gale. Tom was collecting firewood and Jim was making sure the horses were secure for the night.
“Where do you suppose Gale can be?” Janet asked again.
“I wonder,” agreed Phyllis. “This is the first time in my acquaintance with her that she ever missed a meal.”
“I’m beginning to be worried,” Virginia confessed. “I don’t see why she stayed away so long.”
“You don’t suppose—something could have happened to her?” Valerie asked hesitantly.
“What for instance?” Madge demanded.
“Well, her horse might have run away or—”
“Nonsense!” Carol said crisply. “Gale’s horse is the tamest one of the bunch. I’ll bet she is having an adventure and a high old time.”
“But where can she be?” insisted Valerie.
Minutes passed into hours and hours passed and still that question was not answered. The camp was thoroughly alarmed now. They were certain Gale was in trouble or had lost her way in the strange country. Any number of things might have happened, and their thoughts ran rampant. The girls could see that Tom and Jim were as disturbed as they. For the last half hour Jim had, almost lovingly, been cleaning his revolver. There was something ominous in just the sight of him toying with his weapon. What was he thinking?
“What are we going to do?” Valerie asked finally.
It was time for the girls to retire for it had been planned to ride early on the morrow. But now, with Gale missing, their plans were interrupted. None felt that she could sleep if they did go to bed.
“You girls might as well go to bed,” Tom said practically. “Jim and I will wait until dawn and then go out and pick up Gale’s trail. It would be no use going now, for we could find nothing in the darkness.”
They realized that he spoke the truth but still it was hard to sit idle when they were longing to know what was happening to their comrade. Reluctantly Madge, Carol, Janet and Virginia went to their tent. Valerie and Phyllis followed slowly to theirs. Tom and Jim rolled in their blankets by the fire, cl
ose together so they could talk in low whispers. The light wind stirred the flames and sent them reaching high into the air. A moment more and they died down to smouldering embers. Silence gradually settled down over the tents and those two Indian-like figures on the ground.
The camp was asleep or so it seemed. Not one occupant of the tents or Tom or Jim saw the two figures that stood on the outer edge of the circle of light and smiled over the serenity which gripped the camp. Big, burly men they were, used to hard riding and hard living. The leather chaps they wore and their heavy khaki shirts were covered with dust. About their waists hung heavy holster and cartridge belts. Figures of menace they were, menace to the peace of the Adventure Girls’ camp. In their eyes, cold and relentless, was reflected the low, burning embers of the campfire as the two took in every detail. They seemed to have no desire to disturb the sleeping campers, just to note the lay of the land, as it were. When their silent inspection was finished they turned and melted into the darkness from whence they had come.
In the tent she shared now with only Phyllis, Valerie lay wakeful and restless. Her thoughts were contemplating a hundred and one things that might have happened to Gale. The two had been friends for a long, long time and now the thought that her chum might be in trouble or danger, perhaps, made Valerie long to be off to her assistance. She lay staring at the black tent roof. Beside her Phyllis lay calm, breathing regularly, already in the land of dreams. Valerie wished she could smother her own troublesome thoughts and go to sleep. Tom and Jim knew what they were about and if they said it was no use hunting for Gale before morning, there simply was no use that was all. She realized that they could scarcely find a sign of Gale in the pitch blackness of the Arizona night. They thought that Gale might have lost her way and could not return to the camp. Valerie seriously doubted that. Gale could find her way about better than any of them. She seemed to possess a sixth sense that enabled her to remember any route or trail of open country that she had once taken. Valerie was sure Gale had not lost her way. Instead, there was some other reason why she hadn’t returned to the camp.
Valerie’s memory was particularly fresh with scenes of the night she and Gale had been prisoners of the bank bandit. Had something similar happened to Gale tonight? There was scarcely any other reason she should stay away from camp. Valerie wondered if Gale still had her little revolver with her. At least she had some little protection with that.
Valerie sat up and ruffled her hair restlessly. A moment later she stood at the open tent flap. She could see Tom and Jim rolled snugly in their blankets. What was that? For an instant she thought a shadow appeared on the other side of the camp circle. A minute later she changed her mind. It must have been a sudden spurt of the fire that threw a flickering shadow over the sagebrush. She stepped out and let the flap close behind her. There was no use to waken Phyllis or the others just because she couldn’t sleep. She breathed deeply of the cool night air and marveled at the thrill she felt. It was a thrill to note the difference in herself. How changed she was since the first day they had camped in the open. The sun and the usually dry air had wrought wonders, wonders that had seemed impossible to even Valerie herself. She had often wondered if she would ever feel the glow of vigorous health. Now she felt like a new person. That annoying cough had entirely disappeared. She wondered if the other girls realized what a transformation had taken place within her. It had been a severe struggle, the hardest battle she had ever fought, but she had won. The weeks of riding and camping, eating and sleeping outdoors, had tanned her skin and put a sparkle in her eyes. Too, she had gained weight. No more was she utterly exhausted at the end of a day’s hard ride. No more were the other girls livelier than she. Now she felt equal to any situation that might arise.
She had walked from the camp a ways to drink in the beauty of the night. Unconsciously she had taken the same route Gale had ridden earlier in the day. Ahead of her was the rise over which Gale had gone. Valerie strolled along. The moon came out and threw dark shadows under the trees and brush. Glancing up suddenly, Valerie was startled. She was sure she had seen a figure step behind a group of trees ahead of her. She laughed at her own fears. Nervousness wasn’t usually one of her traits. It must be that Gale’s disappearance was preying on her mind. She was beginning to imagine ominous sounds and sights. She frowned at the thought of Gale and kicked an unoffending pebble from her path. She might as well go back and try to sleep. There was no use wandering about like a lost sheep. If the others discovered her absence they would be alarmed and there was no cause to create a disturbance.
She decided to walk to the top of the rise and take a look at the plain that stretched away to the right. She liked to see the plains in the moonlight; it all looked as though the earth had been sprinkled with silver dust. Then she would go back to camp, probably to lay awake until dawn, she thought darkly. It was no use to argue about it. She worried about Gale and about what might have happened. With rustlers and bank robbers in the vicinity, what might not have happened? Too, there was something about Tom and Jim that made her apprehensive. They seemed to be waiting for something. Their whole attitude was one of preparedness, but for what? Did they expect the outlaws to come to the girls’ camp? The men would hardly do that she thought with a smile. Why should they?
She came to the rise of ground and stood there in the moonlight, overlooking the plain. For a moment her eyes were somewhat dazzled by the brilliance of the moonlight. Then she discerned a low cloud of dust rolling along the horizon. Small dark figures she discerned. What could it be? She knew, Jim had told them, that a herd of the K Bar O was somewhere off there to the right. But were the riders moving the cattle tonight? They were moving swiftly, too, she could tell.
Another thought occurred to her and her eyes narrowed with suspicion. Could it be rustlers? Rustlers stealing another herd of K Bar O cattle? It was possible, she declared to herself. The regular riders would scarcely be moving the cattle so swiftly so late at night. There was no reason they should. On the other hand, if it were rustlers, and if it were K Bar O cattle, where were the regular riders? Didn’t they keep a close watch these nights when there was such danger in the air? If she were Gale’s uncle, she would put extra men on in an endeavor to catch the thieves. Suppose there was trickery among the hired hands? Suppose one of the riders whom Mr. Wilson trusted was in league with the outlaws? It was quite possible. The man could very easily fix it so the rustlers would have a clear hand. Was that what was happening? She frowned thoughtfully. At any rate, she was sure that it was rustlers moving K Bar O cattle and she was going to tell Jim and Tom about it.
She turned and her heart froze in her throat. Before her two men stepped forward to block the path. Rough hands seized her and she was lifted bodily from the ground. Kicking and squirming she let out a piercing scream to summon the help of her camp mates. Just one scream, no more was she allowed. She was roughly and effectively silenced and carried to where two horses stood docilely among the trees. Her captors mounted and she was swung up in front of one of them across the saddle. It was no use to fight. Her captors were much stronger than she and there was no course but to submit in stormy but, she hoped, dignified silence as the two horses started away.
CHAPTER XII
Gone
Phyllis reached out a hand. “Awake, Val?” But when there was no answer and her hand encountered empty air she sat up alarmed. “Val?” she called softly. Still there was no answer and Phyllis went to the tent flap and stepped out. Everywhere was silence. “Val!” she called again.
“What’s the matter?” a soft voice spoke behind her and Virginia joined her.
Phyllis smiled. “Can’t you sleep either?”
“No,” Virginia answered. “But—Val. Where is she?”
“She isn’t in the tent. I thought she might have stepped out here,” Phyllis said with a thoughtful frown. “But I don’t see her. I wonder where she can be?”
“Probably went for a walk,” Virginia smiled. “I suppose she was thinking
of Gale. I wish it was morning,” she added uneasily.
“What do you honestly think has happened to Gale?” Phyllis asked.
“I wish I knew,” Virginia said with a sigh. “I wish I knew,” she repeated.
“Will you two chatterboxes please go to sleep?” Tom yawned from his blankets. “Regular night owls, that’s what you are.”
“We can’t sleep,” Virginia said, seating herself cross-legged on the ground beside her brother. “And there is no reason you should either,” she added mischievously.
“Go away!” her brother implored. “We have to get up at dawn.”
“Anything wrong?” Jim asked, sitting up and shaking off his blanket. “Girls all right?”
“Val has gone for a walk,” Phyllis informed him. “How long ago I don’t know.”
“I wish—” Virginia was beginning when she stopped.
From the darkness behind them came a piercing scream. It echoed like thunder through the sleeping stillness of the valley. It brought the remaining girls tumbling from their tent. The four by the campfire exchanged startled, incredible glances.
“That was Val’s voice!” Phyllis said with an effort.
“Come on, Jim!” Tom was already disappearing into the sagebrush. Behind him was Jim and the girls trailed after. No one proposed to be left alone in camp.
But, uncertain as they were of the exact spot from whence the scream had come, they thrashed about in the darkness finding nothing. Finally Tom held up a commanding hand for silence.
“Listen!” he ordered.
There was borne to them on the night air the pounding of hoofs. For a time they were heard and then the sound died slowly into silence.
The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls Page 258