Part 2

“Well, anyway, she did--and then we talked some more, and when I was going she called me over and kissed me, and said: ‘Sugar, you’re a right good girl and a smart one; you can’t fool me a-tall.’ And she went on to say,” continued Elaine, with a boyish grin, “that she’d heard a lot about that poor fish of a brother of mine that was shining up to Betty Yancey, and from all she had heard he was--what was it she said? Oh, yes, that you were a no-’count scoundrel of a flyer, and--”

“Go on, now you’re romancing. Go and make me a glass of iced tea, will you, Lainy? Spike it heavy with corn licker.”

“I’ll make the tea and spike it light, if at all. Corn licker and flying don’t go together, me lad.”

“Aw, have a heart,” complained John to a very pretty back disappearing in the direction of the kitchen.

* * * * *

Elaine stopped her car on the comb of a hill and stood up.

“Bud,” she said solemnly, “I think that’s the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been in Switzerland and--Bud Yancey, are you listening to me?”

“No,” answered Bud, from his seat beside her in the roadster, “I’m watchin’ something.”

“What?” demanded Elaine, sitting down again and turning so that she could see in the direction Bud was looking. “Where? Show me, Bud.”

“Over there on the left. . . . No, follow my finger. See, way over there just the other side of that bunch of chaparral--”

“What, Bud? What is chaparral?”

“Oh, my gosh! That bunch of--see, that thicket over there. That’s the line and--hot damn!”

Elaine saw what he was looking at, just as little white puffs of smoke went floating up from the chaparral.

She saw what looked to be several men on horseback burst out of it, heading south. A moment afterward she could just barely see two men come out on foot, go to where there were two horses, get on them and ride along the west border of the clump.

“That’s Sam and Bill Earp, darn their onery hides!” announced Bud. “Sneakin’ off on me this-a-way!”

“What? How can you tell from here who they are? I can hardly see them. What were they doing? Bud Yancey, you better come out of it and tell me.”

“Shucks,” said Bud, his eyes still on the two men, “I can see them plain enough. Those darn’ jaspers must have got a tip that something was coming across. Wait till I meet up with those polecats, goin’ off like that without me.”

“Did you hear what I said?” demanded Elaine. “I am not accustomed to having my questions totally ignored, Mr. Yancey. What were they doing down there?”

“I just told you,” answered Bud. “Some gents were trying to get across the line, and Sam and Bill Earp stopped them--that’s all.”

“How lucid!” said Elaine hotly. “What a word-painter you are! Some gents were trying to get across the line, and Sam and Bill Earp stopped them, that’s all,” she mimicked. “That tells a lot, doesn’t it?”

“Doggone it,” answered the surprised Bud, “how else can I tell you?”

“It isn’t what you tell; it’s the way you told it. You tossed it out at me like a--like a--the way you would a bone to a dog. Who do you think you are, to talk that way to me? I’m not--”

“For Pete’s sake,” interrupted the still surprised Bud. “I don’t know a thing about it, honest Injun. You asked--”

“Yes, I did,” said Elaine angrily. Her hand went to the gear-shift, and her little arched foot to the starter. “Well, I’m going down there and see just--”

“Hold ’er,” said Bud, sitting up straight. “You can’t go down there. There may be some more that have sneaked over before Sam and Bill got there.”

“What? I _can’t_! Who are you to tell me what I can do? Are you afraid, Mr. Yancey, and you a ranger?”

“I told you not to,” said Bud. As he spoke, his left foot came against the gear-shift, and he reached over and shut off the ignition.

“You dare!” flared Elaine, who had the full complement of temper that is supposed to go with red hair, and hers was brick red, not bronze nor auburn. “Take your foot away--get out of this car!”

“I wont,” returned Bud, “not any. That’s darn’ dangerous ground down there at the minute, and you’re not going down there, a-tall.”

“I’m not--a-tall,” mocked Elaine, her lips tight. “Well, I am--just as far as I want to go, Mr. Texas Ranger Yancey. Why, you’re afraid to go! You are just as white as--as anything.”

“That’s right,” drawled Bud silkily. “I’m afraid.”

“Get out, then, and wait until I come back,” said Elaine.

“I don’t reckon I can do that,” answered Bud, “because you’re not going in the first place.”

“Well, I am,” asserted Elaine. “Take your foot away, please.”

“Wait a minute,” said Bud. “You don’t _sabe_, I reckon. If any of those raiders got across before, they’re holed up somewhere. If we ran on to them, I might not be able to stand them off. Then you’d--”

“If we do,” Elaine interrupted, “you can get out and run as soon as you see them--you can see so far.”

* * * * *

Bud Yancey’s face really did go white at this taunt. None of the Yanceys were noted for much of an even temper, and Bud ran very true to type. But his voice never raised above the slow, soft drawl.

“Yes’sum, I could do that--if we got down there. But we aren’t going. You better start back to the Fort, I reckon.”

“Well,” said Elaine bitterly, after one good look at the frosty black eyes of Mr. Yancey, “I’m not big enough to lick you, much as I’d like to; so you can take your foot away. I’ll take you back to the Fort where you’ll be safe, Mr. Yancey; and before I start, I’ll tell you one thing--that is I think you are nothing but a scared cat, and I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“I’m right sorry you feel that-a-way,” courteously answered Bud as he took his foot from the gear-shift. There wasn’t another word said by either of them on the drive to the Fort. When they arrived, and Elaine had stopped in front of her brother’s, Bud got out of the car, took off his wide soft hat, bowed and said, “Thank you very much for a right pleasant ride,” and walked over towards Captain Carter’s quarters.

Elaine sat there at the wheel for a moment with a look on her face that plainly showed she was still angry but not quite as happy as a young lady should have been who had told a young man she hated just what he was.

* * * * *

“Where’s the gent that’s been hanging on to your apron-strings, Lainy?” asked Webb at the breakfast-table sometime later. “He hasn’t hove in sight for a week or more.”

“I don’t know--and I don’t care,” answered Miss Webb shortly.

“What!” he shouted. “Don’t tell me he’s done quit you!”

Elaine looked at her only brother dispassionately. “Do you know,” she stated in a conversational tone, “I always wondered how you managed to slip through at the Point. And now, as I see what you look like when you laugh that way, I wonder more.”

“What do I look like, Lainy?” grinned Webb. “I thought sure as shootin’ that you and Bud--”

“You look like an absolute idiot; and you are not far from being one, at any time.”

“My heavens,” teased Webb, “it must have been a fierce battle! Do you mean to tell me you allowed a Yancey to ruffle the feathers of a Webb this way? Make up, old kid, and do it darn’ quick. I need your help with Betty.”

“Well, you wont get it,” declared Elaine firmly, “and I wont make up with him.”

“Even if you do get a chance,” jeered her brother. “He hasn’t come around lately, has he? Couldn’t you hold--” Webb stopped and looked keenly at her. “What’s the matter, sis?” he asked in an entirely different tone of voice. “Tell old John about--if you can.”

“Certainly I can. It--that day we drove over to see a man Bud wanted to ask something. When we were coming back, I stopped to look at the view, and there was a fight down in the--chaparral, and after it was over I wanted to go down and see it, and he wouldn’t. He put his foot over against the gear-shift, and--”

“Wait a minute,” interrupted Webb. “What went before this foot-putting stuff? You say there was a fight down in the chaparral? You mean a fight in the car, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t--not that kind of a fight, anyway, though there would have been if I’d been big enough. He held it with his foot, and I couldn’t move it.”

“That’s what I am trying to get at. Why did he?”

“Why, he said it was dangerous to go down there, because there might be some more of the raiders, he called them.”

“And you were going, anyway?”

“Yes, I was--or no, I wasn’t really; but after he said I couldn’t, then I--”

“Oh, I see. He said you couldn’t, so you were going anyway. Then he put his foot against the gear-shift and stopped you. Did it ever occur to you that a Texas ranger, in his own country, might know whether a thing was dangerous or not?”

“No, it didn’t; and even if it did, he had no right to stop me.”

“Well, my persecuted race!” said John Webb, in honest amazement. “And you sit there looking at least half-witted. Why, you darn’ little fool, it was his business to stop you! Do you think he would let you go, knowing you’d go into danger?”

“I wasn’t going into danger,” said Elaine furiously, “and if I were, he ought to protect me. He was afraid, and--”

“What? Afraid? Bud Yancey? Now I know you’re goofy. What the heck and high water is the matter with you, Lainy? My gosh, if being in love makes people act that way, I’m darn’ glad I’m--”

“Oh,” said Elaine, getting up from the table, “you make me so--so damn’ mad!”

“Well,” grinned Webb, rising also, “so does Mr. Yancey. . . . H’m--I wonder who the heck that is? Boy, howdy, see him make that turn? Take it easy, boy; Liz wont stand much of that. Holy cats! He’s coming over here!” And Webb ran down the steps to meet the flivver that was charging up to the steps.

* * * * *

A young Mexican jumped out almost before it stopped, and began talking to Webb. Elaine promptly ran down the steps and tried to get what he was talking about. Her Spanish ran about twenty or thirty words, and the very much excited young Mexican was going up around three hundred a minute. Elaine got: “_Los Rangeros--mucho malo batalla--_” and then was entirely lost trying to follow. Finally, she got: “_El Rangero Earp y el Rangero Yancey, muy malos hombres--_”

“Jack,” she said, seizing Webb’s arm, “what is it? Tell me!”

“What? Where the--go away, woman.”

“I wont. You tell me.”

“All right, if you want to know, I’ll tell you. Garcia’s gang came across the line to get some rangers that mopped up on some of them a little while ago. This bird says they found the rangers, and there is one bearcat fight going on down near the old Three C ranch. He’s a friendly Mex and has come in to get help. He says that some Earp and Yancey are holding the fort, but they wont last long. He also says that they are very bad men in a battle. Now, you know, go on away. I’m going to phone to Bill Carter to get his doughboys over there _pronto_.”

“What Yancey?” asked Elaine directly of the Mexican.

“_El Senor Budero Yancey y--_” He stopped as Elaine whirled around and ran to the house.

“Can cars make it up to this Three C ranch?” Webb asked.

“But no, senor,” answered the Mexican, getting a strangle-hold on what English he had. “These bridge at the _valle es debajo del agua--mucho agua_.”

“Holy cats--under water! How close can they get?”

“_Dos milas._ These Garcia--he ’ave _muchisimo hombres_ weeth--”

“Yeah? I’ll get very much men on his tail too, darn’ quick.”

* * * * *

Webb put down the telephone receiver after having been profanely ordered away from it by Captain William Carter, commanding fifty-odd hardboiled infantrymen who were literally spoiling for want of a fight--Carter’s last words being: “Get away from that phone and give me a chance. Don’t you call up anyone else, either, or I’ll bust you wide open.”

“Oh, my sainted aunt!” Webb said as he started away from the telephone. “Every darn’ bus out jazzing around, and me with a busted arm! By gosh, I’ll go with those-- Where do you think you’re going?”--to Elaine, who had returned, dressed in flying overalls.

“That Martin bomber is on the line, and I’m--”

“What? That old crate? She’s out of commission--and even if she weren’t, you couldn’t fly her.”

“Major Carnduff said I could fly any bus on this station,” protested Elaine, “and I’m going to. I can fly as well as you can, and--”

“Better,” agreed Webb, “much better. Only you’re not going to, because there is no bus to fly, ding it all. If there were, I’d fly it myself. The oil-line is out of that baby, and--There goes Bill Carter and his gang! Holy smackers, Bill’s copped the old man’s pet car and loaded it to the guard-rails. I’m going with the next load, no foolin’. You stay here, Lainy.”

“My car is much faster than any of theirs,” insinuated that young lady.

“Yeah? That’s right. I’ll take it. Go get it for me, Lainy, like a nice girl. Manuel, you wait here. Go and get something to eat. _Mucho dinero_ coming to you, old kid.”

Elaine brought her car around in front. “You can’t drive and shift gears with one hand,” she pointed out, making no effort to get away from the driver’s seat. “I’ll drive you as far as the bridge.”

Her brother, knowing her full well, looked at her with deep suspicion. “You will? And then what will you do? Holy cats! There go two more cars! I’ve missed the first bunch-- All right, you drive me to the bridge. Catch up with Bill Carter if you can. Then you turn around and come back, you hear me?”

“Yes, dear,” Elaine answered meekly, so meekly that Webb looked at her grimly and said: “I mean it, sis.”

Without any further discussion Elaine devoted her attention to the wheel; the roadster not only caught up to Captain Carter’s load of doughboys but passed them, long before the bridge was in sight, and raced on ahead.

The bridge was three or four feet under water. Generally the little stream that came slipping down from the hills was quiet and peaceful, but a cloudburst had made it a roaring torrent. There was a foot-bridge about a mile up, connecting the walls of a narrow deep canon from which the stream issued to the valley below. It wasn’t much of a bridge, being used by men going up in the hills who did not want to circle the valley. The water had not nearly reached it, and as Elaine stopped at the edge of the flood-water, she pointed it out.

“Go right ahead, Mr. Webb. There’s your bridge up there on the right.”

“Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,” chuckled Webb. “I’ll wait for Bill and his cohorts.”

He didn’t have long to wait, for they arrived about two minutes later. Carter smiled cheerfully at Elaine.

“Hullo, Lainy! Going in as Red Cross?”

“No, I am not,” answered Elaine hotly. “I’m going home. This darn’ old brother of mine wont let me.”

“That’s where he shows sense for once. Come on, you terries--show me something! Sergeant Bate, detail four men to stay with the cars. Let’s go!” The other cars had arrived and unloaded.

“Well,” said Elaine bitterly, to anyone who cared to listen, as she watched Captain Carter, her brother and some fifty infantrymen start for the bridge in what looked more like a free-for-all race than an orderly advance, “I’ll never forgive that John Webb or that Bill Carter, either!”

She started her car, turned, waved good-bye to the four disgruntled doughboys left behind, and headed for the Fort.

But instead of keeping on the trail, after she had gone about five miles, she turned sharply to the left. As she did, she said to the wheel: “I’ll bet anything I can get right around in back of the Three C. That’s the old ranch I saw the other day, and--” The trail she had turned on began to narrow and twist, and Elaine wisely decided to put her attention on her driving. About half an hour later, she said aloud: “That darn’ road I came down ought to be around here somewhere. I know I passed that big rock right after-- There it is!”

* * * * *

The trail leading off to the left could hardly be called a trail, let alone a “road,” as Elaine named it. It was hardly wide enough for a car, even where it tied in with the one she was on. Now there was a lot of fallen timber and rocks in it. “My heavens,” she said, standing up and looking it over, “I’ll bet that cloudburst has ruined it. I can’t drive over that! I guess I’ll have to go back. Well, I wont, and that’s that. This road leads up in the hills right back of the Three C, and I’m going to find out if--” The last was said as she was getting out, and the wheel,--not deigning to get into an argument with a red-headed young lady,--keeping quiet, Elaine started up the trail on foot. It was much farther than she thought, and after a steady climb for more than an hour, without sighting the hill she was sure topped the old ranch buildings, she decided to sit down and rest.

* * * * *

Just then the sound of shots came down the trail to her; then a moment later, the patter of running feet. The trail, a little above where she was sitting, took a curve around a big boulder, and then another around an outstanding ledge.

Without a second’s hesitation Elaine rolled off the rock she was sitting on and burrowed into the tangled windfall behind it. In doing it, she proved that she was, as Ma Earp had said, “a right smart girl” and worthy of the border, where the old rule still holds good in spots: “If it’s strange, it’s hostile.”

When she stopped, she was under cover, and by pulling a couple of the branches over a little, could still see up the trail. As she did, there were three more shots, and she heard someone wail, “_Madre de Dios! Soy muerto!_” Then, rounding the curve and running as fast as they could, falling over rocks and windfalls, scrambling up, came four of Garcia’s band, who had tried to ambush some Texas rangers. Their gay serapes were torn and muddy, their heads bare, their mouths open and their faces expressing their one thought, which was to get as far away as possible from whatever was behind them. They came by Elaine’s hole-up so fast they did not even look in her direction.

“My goodness gracious,” she gasped, “they must be--the boys must have ar-- Oh! It’s--it’s Bud!” and she pushed her way out.

[Illustration: Coming down the trail, slowly but with grim determination, was Mr. Buford Yancey, Texas Ranger.]

Coming down the trail, slowly but with grim determination, on foot, with rough homemade bandages on him in several places, a rakish reddened one around his head, almost covering one eye, was Mr. Buford Yancey, Texas ranger. In addition to the above-described decorations, he had firmly held in his right hand an old ivory-handled .45; and around his waist, hanging on one side almost to his knee, was a belt in which most of the cartridge loops were empty. His face and lips looked gray, but his eyes were holding the same look that they did when he stepped into the street that day at Wirton; and on his gray lips was the same little frozen smile. Back of him, about ten feet, came another young man, with about the same number of bandages, the same kind of a gun in his hand--and quite the same kind of a look and smile.

* * * * *

When Elaine rose to her feet from the windfall, Bud stopped and regarded her gravely, a puzzled look taking the place of the cold, bleak one in his eyes. He stood there swaying a little; then he shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment, as if to get rid of a vision. Sam Earp had come up when he opened them. As he did, Bud looked at Elaine and announced gravely: “We’re goin’ to chase those jaspers plumb through to the Guatemala border. You go on home, if you’re real.” And he started down the trail.

“Bud Yancey,” said Elaine, taking the one hop necessary to get in front of him, “you are not! You are not going another step. Why, you are wounded and everything! Bud--you can’t go and leave me here! I’m afraid! Don’t leave me, Bud.”

Sam Earp had stood there, doing more than a little swaying on his own account. “That’s right,” he said solemnly. “It’s your girl, Bud. Can’t leave any woman who’s scared--you stay and I’ll go and get us those _hombres_.” Mr. Earp, having settled the matter, started out; but on making the first step, he slid to the ground and lay there.

“Doggone!” said Bud, looking down on him. “Sam’s out--and Bill is out--and Capt’n Coudray is full of lead. Reckon it’s up to me to do the protectin’. Come on.”

“Oh, thank God!” Elaine had been standing so that she could see up the trail. As she spoke, Bud tried to turn around. He made it halfway; then as his eye caught the flash of steel and the brown of khaki uniforms, he joined Mr. Sam Earp on the ground at Elaine’s feet.

Lieutenant Webb, a sergeant and twelve or fourteen men, arrived a moment later.

After one look at the rangers, he snapped out several orders that resulted in improvised slings attached to gun-barrels. All the way down the trail until Elaine’s car came in sight, he did not speak to her. Garcia’s men had turned off the trail, heading south before they reached the car, and it was as she had left it. Finally Elaine eased over beside him.

“Jack, do you think that he--that they are badly wounded?”