Gale felt Val’s hand tighten convulsively on hers. She looked at her friend. Poor Val, she looked scared to death. Gale hoped she didn’t show her own fright as plainly. Somehow, the knowledge that Valerie was frightened and was counting on her, Gale, for help, served to banish some of Gale’s own terror. When one was terror-stricken, one couldn’t think clearly and goodness knew, they were in need of some straight, clear thinking at this moment. How had these men eluded the police so long? How had they managed to keep in the vicinity and remain hidden from their pursuers?
“How—how did you get here?” Gale said nervously. “We thought—”
“We were miles away, eh?” the outlaw said with a loud laugh. “We couldn’t leave without payin’ a final visit to you. It was easy to get your friends off the ranch.”
“But what if we had gone with them?” Gale demanded, wishing desperately that they had gone with the others.
“We’d have tried another way,” he said calmly. “You ride alone sometimes.”
“But it is nicer so,” Pedro put in. “No one will hear you—scream!”
Valerie, who had been listening in frightened and worried silence, now permitted herself a gleam of triumph. They supposed no one would hear, did they? Loo Wong was in the bunkhouse. In fact, he might at any moment come here to the big ranch house. And surely he would hear? Val smiled to herself. Both girls had pretty good lungs and once they let out a yell, Loo Wong would have to have bad ears indeed not to hear them!
“Loo Wong,” Val said in the barest of whispers to Gale.
Gale nudged her friend in understanding. It was well that they did have a faint hope of help, but it would not do to let these men know of Loo Wong. They had come here bloodthirsty and revengeful. What would happen before they left? Of that she scarcely dared to think. The outlaw was fingering his rope again, in a most unpleasant manner. What was he contemplating? She shivered at the malicious look on his face. They might try anything, they were utterly ruthless. She wished frantically that there was some way in which they might summon Loo Wong.
“No, as I said, we couldn’t leave without paying a visit to you,” the outlaw continued. “Did you ever see anybody horsewhipped?” he asked next.
Gale paled at the suggestion. “You can’t mean to—you must be mad!” she said.
“Oh, an’ I might as well tell you, there’s no use yellin’ for that crazy cook o’ the Wilsons. My pal is takin’ care of him.”
That took all the wind out of the girls’ sails. It was the final blow. Now they were certainly cornered. All their friends away and Loo Wong—incapacitated.
“Are you mad to come here like this?” Gale said stormily. She had decided it was better to put up a staunch front. “You know what will happen when you are caught, and you will be caught! The Sheriff will shoot you on sight!”
“We won’t be here,” the man said confidently. “Tonight we’re leavin’ the country for good, eh, Pedro?”
“Sí,” replied his companion with a wide grin. “We go ver’ fast.”
“Not fast enough to get away,” Gale said confidently. “And when they catch you—”
“That’s enough! They’re not goin’ to catch us,” he repeated, jerking his rope between his hands and taking a firm grip on the handle.
Gale wished suddenly that they had not come to Arizona at all this summer. But then when they had started out who had thought things might come to this? The West nowadays was supposed to be calm and orderly, with no traces of the old-time Billy the Kid and his confederates. They had wanted adventures and now they were certainly getting them.
“I wonder if Janet’s sixth sense told her of this,” Val murmured, with a dry attempt at humor.
“Ever since you landed here things have been poppin’,” the outlaw resumed, fixing a stern eye on Gale. “First you grab the bank money and land us in jail. Then you hand us over to the Sheriff again.”
“And we’ll do it a third time,” Gale said.
“Not when we get through,” the man assured her. “I reckon we’ve got a little score to settle and we’re goin’ to do it—now!”
CHAPTER XVIII
Premonition
The Adventure Girls, with their companions, rode along briskly through the bright sunshine. They were all anxious to reach the spot where the outlaws had been as soon as possible so they did not dawdle along the way.
“Gale and Val don’t know what they’re missing,” Janet declared as they jogged along. “It’s not every day you can join in a chase for bandits.”
“But just think of them lounging around eating big chunks of fudge,” Carol said mischievously.
Janet frowned on her. “Must you give voice to such disturbing thoughts? If they don’t save me a piece, I’ll never forgive them,” she added darkly.
“What’s the matter with you?” Virginia asked Phyllis as the latter rode along between Virginia and Tom.
“I?” Phyllis laughed, “I’ve got a funny feeling that I’d like to run back to the ranch. Call it a premonition or—”
“A hunch,” supplied Tom. “Well, it’s about time we called a halt. I’m thirsty,” he declared, sliding from his saddle and approaching the little stream beside which the party had halted.
The afternoon was wearing fast away and long shadows were appearing under the trees.
“Say, Sheriff, when do you reckon we’ll find these fellows?” Tom wanted to know.
“’Bout two, three hours yet,” the Sheriff replied.
“That means we’ll be riding back to the ranch in the moonlight,” put in Madge.
“For which three cheers,” added Janet. “I like night riding.”
When they remounted, Phyllis declared her intention of returning to the ranch house. It took a bit of determination to persuade the others to leave her, but she was firm about it and finally watched them ride off without her. Then she turned her horse and headed back to the K Bar O. She was in no hurry now, so she let her pony proceed at a leisurely walk.
It was strange, this feeling she had, that she should go back to her friends. She could not tell why she should feel so. There was certainly nothing that could happen to them at the ranch. Yet she had that queer feeling that there was something doing, something in which she should have a part.
She looked up at the setting sun. It would be dark before she reached the ranch house and, she plotted mischievously, she would surprise Gale and Valerie. Pounce on them all unaware. Behind her sounded the beat of hoofs and Tom rode into sight.
“Hi, there!” he called. “Wait up for a pal.”
“Going home, too?” she demanded.
“Yep,” he nodded, reining his horse in beside hers. “I thought you might get lost, so I’ll be your guide.”
“Was it me or was it Val’s fudge,” Phyllis asked suspiciously, “that made you decide to come along?”
“Well now,” Tom drawled, a twinkle in his eye, “I reckon the fudge was an added inducement.”
“I thought so,” laughed Phyllis.
“That hunch of yours must have been strong to take you back to the ranch,” Tom declared after a while.
“It’s strange,” Phyllis frowned. “I can’t account for it.”
“Hunches are funny things,” Tom agreed. “Sometimes they’re right and sometimes—well, sometimes they’re not so good.”
“Do you get them?” Phyllis asked.
“Lots of times,” he agreed. “I remember once a couple years ago, I was out night riding with the herd. I made up my mind to return to the ranch in the middle of the night. I came to a fork in the trail and a hunch told me to take the trail to the right, so I did. Well, all of a sudden my horse balked and refused to budge another step. He was right stubborn about it too. I reckon I called him everything I could think of and used my whip a lot, too. But he just set back on his haunches and refused to go on.
“It was so dark I couldn’t see a thing of what was ahead an’ thought maybe Dusty was afraid of something. Usually he was th
e best-behaved horse on the K Bar O.”
“What did you do?” Phyllis asked interestedly.
“I got down and took out my flashlight. I got a habit of carryin’ a light with me, and turned it ahead of us. Did my hair stand on end! Here I had been trying to drive him off a sixty-foot cliff. All he would have had to take was one step to land us both in kingdom come.”
“He had good reason to be stubborn,” Phyllis murmured in awe. “I didn’t know horses had such sense!”
“Yep, you can trust a horse’s judgment in preference to a man’s sometimes,” Tom said. “Especially in the country out here.”
They rode along, chatting amiably, while the sun sank farther and farther out of sight.
“Boy, am I hungry!” Tom declared. “I hope Loo Wong has supper ready.”
“But he doesn’t know we’re coming,” Phyllis reminded him.
“Surely Gale and Val intend to eat,” Tom said. “There will be enough for us, too.”
When they rode into the ranch yard it was dark and the windows of the bunkhouse and the ranch house were gleaming yellow. Three horses stood saddled by the corral. When Phyllis and Tom rode up and dismounted, Tom went across and examined the horses curiously. He was back at Phyllis’ side in a moment.
“Something funny going on here,” he said in a low undertone. “The place is too quiet to be natural.”
“My hunch was right,” Phyllis murmured in return. “But what is it? Don’t you know those three horses?”
“No, never saw ’em before,” he answered. “Let’s go to the bunkhouse and see if we can find Loo Wong.”
Cautiously they crossed the ranch yard and peered in the bunkhouse window. Phyllis involuntarily caught her breath at what they saw.
Loo Wong was seated against the wall and directly in front of him, across the table, his back to the window and door, sat another man, a dirty, unkempt individual. The latter had his feet propped on the table and a rifle aimed squarely at Loo Wong’s head. Loo Wong was glaring fruitlessly at his enemy. The situation was highly injurious to his oriental pride and this disgusting individual was keeping him from his duties in the kitchen. Wong was properly angry, but he had no desire to resort to violence and perhaps end up with a bullet in him from the other’s gun, so he submitted impassively.
“What can we do?” Phyllis demanded of Tom.
Neither of the two was armed, but it was imperative that they rescue Loo Wong and determine what, if anything, had happened to Gale and Valerie. Tom pulled his hat, the usual ten gallon size, farther down on his forehead and grinned maliciously.
“You stay here,” he directed in a tone that brooked no argument.
Around by the door was piled firewood. Loo Wong was negligent in carrying his wood into the kitchen and usually commissioned one of the cowboys to do it, but today no one had bothered. Tom chose a piece that would be admirable as a club and approached the door.
Not by a glance or a sound did Loo Wong betray himself when he saw the door slowly open and the face of the young boss appear. He kept his almond eyes fixed on the man opposite him, hands hidden in his enveloping sleeves, face perfectly impassive. What was going on in his mind it was impossible to tell.
Phyllis, watching at the window, wondered how in the world he managed to sit so perfectly still. She, herself, was almost dancing in impatience. She expected to see the outlaw whirl about and shoot at Tom any minute. It was impossible that he could be wholly ignorant of Tom’s presence. She held her breath as Tom shut the door behind him and approached catlike to his prey. She saw the man suddenly straighten in his chair and stand up. He turned and at the same time Tom hurled himself forward. The man fired his rifle and Phyllis instinctively ducked. It was fortunate that she did, for the bullet crashed through the glass over her head. When she cautiously raised her eyes to the window again, the outlaw was on the floor and Loo Wong was grinning at Tom.
Phyllis left the window and ran to the door. She wanted to get up to the ranch house and see if Gale and Val were safe and sound, but she wanted company, for something told her she might run into trouble. Ever since she had seen that man guarding Loo Wong, she had a secret conviction that the girls were in trouble. If they were, it was up to her, Tom, and Loo Wong, to get them out of it. The Sheriff and the others wouldn’t be back for hours yet.
“That’ll hold him for a while,” Tom declared as she appeared. He dusted his hands and turned to the Chinese cook. “What happened, Wong?”
Laboriously and in his funny English, Loo Wong proceeded to acquaint the others with the details of how the man had surprised him at work and held him prisoner at the point of a gun. Of the two girls in the ranch house, he knew nothing. He had not known the man who accosted him had had companions.
“When did he come, Loo Wong?” Tom asked.
“Mebbe one, almost one hour,” the Chinaman said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Time flies.”
“Don’t you think we better go up to the house?” Phyllis asked Tom worriedly.
“Yes, come along, Wong!” Tom said turning to the door.
“One moment, please,” the Chinaman said and disappeared into the kitchen.
“What do you suppose he is after?” Phyllis asked impatiently.
“I don’t know,” Tom said with a half smile. “He has a funny idea in his head, I suppose.”
He was as anxious as Phyllis to get to the ranch house. He believed, now, that the hunt the Sheriff and the others had gone on was a hoax. For some reason the outlaws had come here to the ranch, of that he was certain, and he thanked his stars he had decided to return to the K Bar O with Phyllis. He knew the men, on the day the Sheriff had arrested them, had sworn to get even with the two girls who were responsible for their capture, but he had not dreamed that they would attempt anything—above all, here at the ranch. He tried not to seem worried in front of Phyllis, but he was.
Loo Wong appeared from the kitchen brandishing his meat cleaver. The wide, sharp blade gleamed dully in the lamplight.
“Don’t aim that thing at me,” Tom laughed. “What are you going to do with it?”
“Show blandits tlwo, thlee thing,” Loo Wong said gravely.
“You’ll show them two or three stars if you hit them with that,” Phyllis declared. “Let’s go, Tom.”
The three stepped from the bunkhouse and started across the yard. From the house ahead of them came a crash and the light in the front room went out. A shout arose, then another.
“Stay here, Phyllis,” Tom said, starting forward at a run. “Come along, Wong.”
“Velly fast!” responded the Chinaman, his cleaver clasped tightly in his hand, ready to smash the first thing that accosted him.
CHAPTER XIX
Help
The horsehair whip was heavy and long. It cracked ominously as the outlaw swung it once around his head and brought it down on the floor.
Val jumped as it snapped scarcely six inches from her ankle. Two high spots of color burned in her cheeks and her eyes were blazing. She was beginning to conquer her terror and to feel exasperated with the situation, it was so like a melodramatic “thriller” of the movies. She was sure these men wouldn’t dare use the whip on them, but—she glanced apprehensively at Pedro, and saw his knife once more between his caressing fingers. Darn the man! Did he always have to look so much like a—pirate? Mentally she decided that was just the appearance he gave, ragged, dirty, daring—a pirate who was ready to make his victims walk the plank. Val wished frantically that their friends would return and upset the outlaws’ plans. Of course they wouldn’t dare to harm Gale and her, but just the same she wanted to be rid of them.
Gale was not as confident of escape from injury as Val. She believed the men were determined to seek the revenge which they claimed. Their threatening appearance certainly did not belie their words. The sight of the whip curled in the leader’s hand was enough to convince Gale of their purpose. They intended to use the whip on the girls, and unless something happened to interfere—
Gale was glad Val was conquering her terror. It seemed after the first surprise and terror were over, Val rallied surprisingly. Now she was standing beside Gale, calm and haughty. If the two of them kept their wits about them, they might be able to find a means of escape from the situation. But how? They could not look for help from their friends because they were still miles away. It was up to them to either take the horsewhipping, or to rebel and overthrow the tyranny of these two bandits. With lightning glances, Gale looked about the room for something, anything that might help, for she was determined to fight.
The girls were standing before an open window. The night breeze faintly rustled the curtain. Before them was the lamp that lighted the room, standing on a table among books and magazines. At one end of the room, effectively blocked by Pedro, was the door to the dining room and the kitchen beyond. At the other side of the room was the front door by which the chief outlaw had entered. A dash to either of the doors would be useless.
Pedro watched with a pleased grin while his companion stepped closer to the girls. Instinctively the girls gave ground until they were flat against the wall—by the window.
“Val,” Gale whispered.
“Yes?”
“Can you jump out the window in a minute?”
“Half a minute,” Val said at once. “But what—”
“Get ready,” Gale murmured urgently.
Gale had an idea. True it was a long chance, but it might work. If the room was suddenly plunged in darkness, the outlaws would momentarily be nonplussed. That moment was all they needed. Once outside they might have a chance of outrunning or tricking their pursuers. If they stayed here in the room, the whip was bound to fall on them. As it was, the bandit was swinging it viciously and it took agility to avoid the stinging lash.
Obedient to Gale’s command to get ready to drop out of the window, Val half turned to face the wall.
“Don’t think you can get out that way,” the outlaw said. “We’ve got you now and we’re going to settle a few things!” He swung the whip and it descended with a crack on Val’s shoulders.
The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls Page 263