Josephine Chase

“ Her quickness had been the means of her disengaging herself as the bronco threw himself to the ground.
After giving the black a few seconds on his side, the Overland Rider brought her crop down on his rump with a vicious whack. It stung. Like a flash the pony was on his feet, with Grace's feet now planted firmly in the stirrups.
As Grace had expected, the bucking was resumed the instant the pony felt the smart of the crop. How the dust did fly then, and how those cowboy wranglers did yell!
"Who's a tenderfoot!" howled Hippy Wingate. "Just watch her smoke." ”

“ The girls, now greatly refreshed, turned campward and sat down on the ground to eat "poisoned pig," as Hippy Wingate had named the bacon with its bitter alkaline taste.
"I fear we are forgetting that we still are without water," reminded Grace after they had finished their supper, feeling more like themselves than at any time in the last two days.
"Don't throw a monkey-wrench in the machinery," begged Hippy. "Let's live while the living is good, and die when we haven't anything else to do."
"Grace is quite right," agreed Anne. "I am worrying about to- morrow myself." ”

“ Elfreda handed him a chunk of bacon, which he acknowledged with a nod, and stuffed it into his kit.
The traveler now threw back his shoulders and peered at each member of the outfit in turn as if to impress their faces on his mind, then swept off his sombrero.
"Thankee, folks," he said, and, putting spurs to his pony, galloped away.
"There is one man to whom it would be perfectly safe to entrust a secret," declared Miss Briggs with emphasis.
"What a strange character," murmured Anne, as she gazed after the galloping pony. "I wonder who he can be." ”

“ Lang," directed Grace. "Any pony that I can ride, the others surely can."
The guide nodded and turned away. Grace watched the saddling with keen interest, especially the saddling of the first pony selected for her, which squealed and pawed and danced as the cinch-girth was being tightened.
"Vicious!" objected Elfreda Briggs.
"No," answered Grace. "Just playful. If the others are no worse, we shall have a good bunch of horses."
The saddle being secured, Grace stepped up and petted the little animal for a few moments, then mounted. The pony danced under her, then, at a word, galloped off. ”

“ Howling and whooping like a wild Indian, another rider shot directly across Grace's path, his glee spinning his sombrero as high in the air as he could throw it, intending to ride under and catch it. Grace's revolver, the same weapon that she had taken from Belle Bates, the wife of the bandit of the Apache Trail, whipped out of its holster in a second. ”

“ Stop, I say!"
"The heat has gone to Hi's head," laughingly confided Hippy to Emma. "All right, old man, just trail along behind us and we'll show you," he flung back.
"Stop, Lieutenant! Listen to reason, won't you? What you see is a desert mirage. There isn't a lake within a hundred miles of us."
Hippy Wingate brought his pony to a slow stop, and Emma, who had heard, stopped about the same time. ”

“ Tom is such a dear," reflected Grace.
"Yes, reason in the form of Grace Harlowe Gray," nodded Elfreda understandingly. "Should I ever have the misfortune to possess a husband I hope he may be as amenable to reason. Where is Tom, by the way?"
"He has gone out with Hippy Wingate to look for one Hiram Lang, known hereabouts as Hi Lang, the man who is to act as our guide and protector across the desert. He is Mr. Fairweather's cousin, you will recall, and my one great hope is that he may prove to be as fine a character as the man who piloted us over the Old Apache Trail last summer." ”

“ Here they spread out and began to move cautiously toward the camp, hoping to come upon their attackers, either singly or together, and drive them before them.
Grace had gone a short distance when she saw a man rise suddenly about ten feet in front of her. Without a sound she rose and, slipping her revolver to her left hand, grasped her lasso with her right. It was a true throw, and the rope fell over the man's shoulders, pinning his arms to his sides. Without a moment's hesitation, the girl snubbed the lasso about a tree and, holding it firmly, fired three signal shots into the air. ”

“ Looking in the direction in which he was pointing, the Overland girls saw in the far distance a horseman, sitting his mount so motionless that at first they were not positive whether it were a horseman or a distorted cactus plant.
Grace ran for her binoculars and for some minutes studied the stranger.
"That's our caller," suggested Hippy.
Maybe he has decided to hang around for another meal. I don't know that I blame him."
"No, it is not the same man, at least not same pony," answered Grace, snapping glasses shut. "The man yonder is riding a black pony. ”

“ Grace handed the map to her, and Elfreda studied it frowningly.
"It means nothing in particular, I should say. It might be a map of a scene in Switzerland for all we know," declared Nora. "Hippy, you are a champion finder. I wonder if they give medals for persons who find things—who make great finds."
"Nora dear, if I had found one of the Egyptian pyramids out here on the American Desert, you would blame me for not handing out the Sphinx at the same time," protested Hippy. ”

“ We haven't been able to locate a tank to-day, and there isn't more than a quart altogether left in the canteens."
"What are we to do now?" asked Grace.
"We've got to pull up stakes and move. All hands must search for water—search until water is found, and keep moving forward at the same time. If we don't find it by night—-" The guide shrugged his shoulders and clucked to his pony. Grace, her face reflecting the concern she felt, followed at a gallop and they were soon raising a cloud of dust on the baking desert. ”

“ Yet, I'd rather be out there where the starving coyotes howl the night through, where the great, gaunt gray wolves loom up in the night seeking what they may kill and eat, or where a step in the dark may be your last should you tread on a desert rattler. ”

“ When a man is alone on this big desert he feels very small, and speaking out or raising a fellow's voice seems as much of a sacrilege as speaking out loud in church when the preacher's praying. As for listening, I don't know, but maybe we listen for the sounds that we are so used to hearing at home, the rustle of leaves, the song of a bird, but all we ever hear out here in the daytime is now and then the buzz of a rattler's tail. ”

“ He had touched something that was not rock—something that felt like a human form. The guide struck a match and peered down at Grace Harlowe, who lay face down at the bottom, and, as he turned her face up to the light, he saw flecks of blood on it.
"The hound! He hit her! I'll kill him for that, whoever he may be!"
Placing a hand over Grace's heart, Hi Lang found that she was alive.
"Thank God for that! Give me the luck to meet the critter that did this thing," breathed the desert guide.
Hi lifted the unconscious Overland girl in his arms and began scrambling toward the top of the big crevice. ”

“ She galloped on at a more rapid pace, but it was a long time, it seemed to Grace, before she saw that she really was nearing the little animal, who was browsing on desert sage, or what few scraps of it remained after the storm.
Hoping fervently that it was her own little spirited Blackie, Grace urged her mount forward at a lively clip and bore down on the bronco who began edging off when he saw her heading for him.
"It's Elfreda's pony!" cried Grace. "Here, boy; here, boy!" she called.
The "lost" animal kicked up its heels and started away at a gallop, with Grace Harlowe in full pursuit. ”

“ One bullet passed between the two men, the other clipped the crown, of Lieutenant Wingate's sombrero.
The answer came, it seemed, within a second after the two shots. Hippy and the guide leaped to their feet, drawing their revolvers as they did so, and emptying them into the bushes, firing low and trying to cover all the ground where a man might be lurking.
"As you were about to say," drawled Hippy, slipping another clip of ammunition into his revolver.
"That there is one man who might and would get me if he thought he could get away with it. But why should he wish to shoot a woman? ”

“ 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." ”

“ Hippy sat down, held the box up to his ear and shook it.
"Yep! Something in it. Sounds like gold rattling about in there, but the box is locked. Get a hammer so I can break it open."
"I do not like the idea at all," objected Grace somewhat severely.
"It is not our property and we have no right to—-"
"Everything on the desert is any man's property," corrected the guide. "Further, it is our duty to open the box. We do not know but it may contain the last request of some unfortunate desert traveler, and if that is so it may lay in our power to do him a great service. ”

“ The Overland girls stood up and, shading their eyes, gazed off over the desert. They saw a horseman approaching, but the pony he was riding appeared to be almost dragging himself along.
"That isn't Lang," exclaimed Hippy.
"I see it isn't," agreed Grace.
Being a lone rider the Overlanders knew they were safe from trouble so far as he was concerned, but they observed the rider narrowly as he neared the camp.
"Ping! Fetch water!" ordered Grace incisively. "That man and horse are exhausted." ”

“ I just dote on secrets," exclaimed Emma, her good nature now fully restored.
"They might answer for an emergency, but nothing short of real food would answer for me," declared Hippy.
"Just the same a man might live on what we see before us here for a long time," replied the guide. "If you will examine those mesquite bushes you will find a bean pod on them. It is a rich and nourishing food. Then there are the pears of the tuna and the fruit of the sahuaro or giant cactus."
"We saw a forest of them on the Apache Trail," Grace informed him. ”

“ The Overland girls slid from their saddles, and the guide, after handing his bridle-rein to Ping, strode off into the darkness.
"Oh, this is terrible!" wailed Emma. "I know I shall expire."
"Good! Then we shall have a little peace," retorted Hippy laughingly.
"Don't," begged Grace. "The poor girl really is suffering, but when she gets used to the heat and discomforts out here I think she will really enjoy it." Grace petted the wet neck of her pony and he nosed her cheek and nibbled at the brim of her sombrero. "How do you feel, Elfreda?" ”

“ The girls gasped when he threw the wrapping paper away and revealed a dainty blue silk parasol, which he raised and held over his head.
"Every man his own shade tree," chuckled Hippy. "If any of you ladies find you are being overcome by the desert heat, you are at liberty to ride in the shadow cast by my Christmas tree."
"You are very considerate. We thank you," answered Anne.
"Selfish!" rebuked Emma.
Hi Lang laughed silently, but made no comment. Neither heat nor hardship appeared to affect him unpleasantly. ”

“ The instant Grace stepped away, however, the black grew restless. He dragged the cowboy who was holding him and threatened to break away, nor was he quieted until Grace herself intervened and, slipping the bridle rein over her arm and leading the pony, walked over to Tom Gray.
"No wonder you are successful in managing a husband," observed
Tom. "Even the dumb animals bow to your will." ”

“ Lang," asked Grace.
"It is the bisnaga, sometimes called the 'niggerhead,' belonging to the cactus family, a plant that is ever hailed with joy by the thirsty traveler."
"It's a life saver," agreed Lieutenant Wingate. "Where is that
Chinaman? Doesn't he ever get thirsty?"
"Don't worry about him. He is out there in the bushes now, swallowing 'niggerheads' as fast as he can gulp them down. This is one of the secrets of the desert. There are others—but a man must know them before he can take advantage of them." ”