L. Frank Baum_Aunt Jane 06 (10 page)

"Why, we haven't had the chance of a dance for ages," said another
approvingly.

"Because we have had no ladies to dance with," explained Algy. "But
here are three come to our rescue—perhaps more, if I could see inside
that barricade—and they cannot refuse us the pleasure of their
society."

"Sir," said Major Doyle, stiffly, "you are pleased to be impertinent.
Ride on, you rascals, and spare us further sight of you."

The man turned upon him a scowling face.

"Don't interfere," he said warningly. "This isn't your party, you old
duffer!"

"Drive ahead, Wampus," commanded Uncle John.

Wampus had to get out and crank the engines, which he calmly proceeded
to do. The man who had called himself Algernon Tobey perceived his
intention and urged his pony to the front of the car.

"Let that thing alone. Keep your hands off!" he said.

Wampus paid no attention. The fellow brought his riding whip down
sharply on the chauffeur's shoulders, inflicting a stinging blow.
Instantly little Wampus straightened up, grasped Tobey by the leg
and with a swift, skillful motion jerked him from his horse. The man
started to draw his revolver, but in an instant he and Wampus were
rolling together upon the ground and the Canadian presently came
uppermost and held his antagonist firmly between his knees. Then
with deliberation he raised his clinched fist and thrust it forcibly
against Mr. Tobey's eye, repeating the impact upon his nose, his chin
and his cheek in a succession of jarring thumps that were delivered
with scientific precision. Algy fairly howled, kicking and struggling
to be free. None of his comrades offered to interfere and it seemed
they were grimly enjoying the punishment that was being; inflicted
upon their leader.

When Wampus had quite finished his work he arose, adjusted his
disarranged collar and tie and proceeded to crank the engines. Then he
climbed into his seat and started the car with a sudden bound. As he
did so a revolver shot rang out and one of the front tires, pierced by
the bullet, ripped itself nearly in two as it crumpled up. A shout of
derisive laughter came from the cowboys. Algy was astride his pony
again, and as Wampus brought the damaged car to a stop the remittance
men dashed by and along the path, taking the same direction Uncle
John's party was following". Tobey held back a little, calling out:

"Au revoir! I shall expect you all at my party. I'm going now to get
the fiddler."

He rejoined his comrades then, and they all clattered away until a
roll of the mesa hid them from sight.

Uncle John got down from his seat to assist his chauffeur.

"Thank you, Wampus," he said. "Perhaps you should have killed him
while you had the opportunity; but you did very well."

Wampus was wrestling with the tire.

"I have never start a private graveyard," he replied, "for reason I
am afraid to hurt anyone. But I am Wampus. If Mister Algy he dance
to-night, somebody mus' lead him, for he will be blind."

"I never met such a lawless brood in my life," prowled the Major,
indignantly. "If they were in New York they'd be put behind the bars
in two minutes."

"But they are in Arizona—in the wilderness," said Uncle John gravely.
"If there are laws here such people do not respect them."

It took a long time to set the new tire and inflate it, for the outer
tube was torn so badly that an extra one had to be substituted. But
finally the task was accomplished and once more they renewed their
journey.

Now that they were alone with their friends the girls were excitedly
gossiping over the encounter.

"Do you really suppose we are on that man's ground—his ranch, as he
calls it?" asked Myrtle, half fearfully.

"Why, I suppose someone owns all this ground, barren as it is,"
replied Patsy. "But we are following a regular road—not a very good
one, nor much traveled; but a road, nevertheless—and any road is
public property and open for the use of travelers."

"Perhaps we shall pass by their ranch house," suggested Beth.

"If we do," Uncle John answered, "I'll have Wampus put on full speed.
Even their wild ponies can't follow us then, and if they try shooting
up the tires again they are quite likely to miss as we spin by."

"Isn't there any other road?" the Major asked.

Wampus shook his head.

"I have never come jus' this same route before," he admitted; "but I
make good friend in Prescott, who know all Arizona blindfold. Him say
this is nice, easy road and we cannot get lost for a good reason—the
reason there is no other road at all—only this one."

"Did your friend say anything about Hades Ranch?" continued the
questioner.

"He say remittance man make much mischief if he can; but he one
foreign coward, drunk most time an' when sober weak like my aunt's
tea. He say don't let remittance man make bluff. No matter how many
come, if you hit one they all run."

"H-m," murmured Uncle John, "I'm not so sure of that, Wampus. There
seems to be a good many of those insolent rascals, and I hope we shall
not meet them again. They may give us trouble yet."

"Never be afraid," advised the chauffeur. "I am Wampus, an' I am
here!"

Admitting that evident truth, our tourists were not greatly reassured.
Wampus could not tell where the road might lead them, for he did not
know, save that it led by devious winds to Parker, on the border
between Arizona and California; but what lay between them and that
destination was a sealed book to them all.

The car was heavy and the road soft; so in spite of their powerful
engines the car was not making more than fifteen miles an hour. A
short ride brought them to a ridge, from the top of which they saw a
huddle of buildings not far distant, with a near-by paddock containing
a number of ponies and cattle. The buildings were not palatial, being
composed mostly of adobe and slab wood; but the central one, probably
the dwelling or ranch house, was a low, rambling pile covering
considerable ground.

The road led directly toward this group of buildings, which our
travelers at once guessed to be "Hades Ranch." Wampus slowed down and
cast a sharp glance around, but the land on either side of the trail
was thick with cactus and sagebrush and to leave the beaten path meant
a puncture almost instantly. There was but one thing to be done.

"Pretty good road here," said Wampus. "Hold tight an' don't get scare.
We make a race of it."

"Go ahead," returned Uncle John, grimly. "If any of those scoundrels
get in your way, run them down."

"I never like to hurt peoples; but if that is your command, sir, I
will obey," said Wampus, setting his jaws tightly together.

The car gathered speed and shot over the road at the rate of twenty
miles an hour; then twenty-five—then thirty—and finally forty. The
girls sat straight and looked eagerly ahead. Forms were darting here
and there among the buildings of the ranch, quickly congregating in
groups on either side of the roadway. A red flag fluttered in the
center of the road, some four feet from the ground.

"Look out!" shouted Uncle John. "Stop, Wampus; stop her, I say!"

Wampus saw why, and applied his brakes. The big car trembled, slowed
down, and came to a stop less than a foot away from three ugly bars of
barbed wire which had been placed across the road. They were now just
beside the buildings, and a triumphant shout greeted them from their
captors, the remittance men.

"Welcome to Hades!" cried a stout little man in a red blouse, sticking
his leering countenance through the door of the limousine.

"Shut up, Stubby," commanded a hoarse voice from the group. "Haven't
you any manners? You haven't been introduced yet."

"I've engaged the dark eyed one for the first dance," persisted
Stubby, as a dozen hands dragged him away from the door.

The Major sprang out and confronted the band.

"What are we to understand by this outrage?" he demanded fiercely.

"It means you are all invited to a party, and we won't accept any
regrets," replied a laughing voice.

Patsy put her head out of the window and looked at the speaker. It was
Mr. Algernon Tobey. He had two strips of sticking plaster over his
nose. One of his eyes was swollen shut and the other was almost
closed. Yet he spoke in a voice more cheerful than it was when they
first met him.

"Don't be afraid," he added. "No one has the slightest intention of
injuring any of you in any way, I assure you."

"We have not the same intention in regard to you, sir," replied Major
Doyle, fuming with rage, for his "Irish was up," as he afterward
admitted. "Unless you at once remove that barricade and allow us to
proceed we will not be responsible for what happens. You are warned,
sir!"

Uncle John, by this time standing beside the Major upon the ground,
had been quietly "sizing up the situation," as he would have expressed
it. He found they had been captured by a party of fourteen men, most
of whom were young, although three or four, including Tobey, were
of middle age. The atmosphere of the place, with its disorderly
surroundings and ill kept buildings, indicated that Hades Ranch was
bachelor quarters exclusively. Half a dozen Mexicans and one or two
Chinamen were in the background, curious onlookers.

Mr. Merrick noted the fact that the remittance men were an unkempt,
dissipated looking crew, but that their faces betokened reckless good
humor rather than desperate evil. There was no doubt but most of
them were considering this episode in the light of a joke, and were
determined to enjoy the experience at the expense of their enforced
guests.

Uncle John had lived many years in the West and knew something of
these peculiar English exiles. Therefore he was neither frightened
nor unduly angry, but rather annoyed by the provoking audacity of the
fellows. He had three young girls to protect and knew these men could
not be fit acquaintances for them. But he adopted a tone different
from the Major's and addressed himself to Tobey as the apparent leader
of the band.

"Sir," he said calmly but with pointed emphasis, "I believe you were
born a gentleman, as were your comrades here."

"You are right," answered Tobey. "And each and every one you see
before you has fallen from his former high estate—through no fault
of his own." This may have been a sarcasm, for the others laughed in
boisterous approval. "In some respects we are still gentlemen," Tobey
went on, "but in others we are not to be trusted. Be reasonable,
sir—I haven't the faintest idea who you are or what your name is—and
consider calmly our proposition. Here we are, a number of young
fellows who have seen better and happier days, living alone in the
midst of an alkali desert. Most of us haven't seen a female for
months, nor a lady for years. Why, last fall Stubby there rode eighty
miles to Buxton, just to stand on a corner and see a lot of greasy
Mexican women go by. We tire of exclusive male society, you see. We
get to bore one another terribly. So here, like a visitation from
heaven, three attractive young ladies descend upon us, traveling
through our domain, and having discovered their presence we instantly
decided to take advantage of the opportunity and invite them to an
impromptu ball. There's no use refusing us, for we insist on carrying
out our plan. If you men, perhaps the fathers of the young ladies,
behave reasonably, we will entertain you royally and send you on your
way rejoicing. Won't we, boys?"

They shouted approval.

"But if you oppose us and act ugly about this fête, gentlemen, we
shall be obliged to put a few bullets into you, and decide afterward
what disposition to make of the girls. About the best stunt we do is
shooting. We can't work; we're too poor to gamble much; but we hunt
a good bit and we can shoot straight. I assure you we wouldn't mind
losing and taking a few lives if a scrimmage is necessary. Eh, boys?"

"That's right, Algy," said one, answering for the others; "we'll have
that dance if we die for it—ev'ry man Jack of us."

Myrtle was trembling in her corner of the limousine. Beth sat still
with a curl on her lips. But Patsy was much interested in the
proceedings and had listened attentively to the above conversation.
Now the girl suddenly swung open the door and sprang out beside her
father, facing the group of cowboys.

"I am Patricia Doyle," she said in a clear voice, "and these
gentlemen," indicating the Major and Mr. Merrick, "are my father and
my uncle. You understand perfectly why they object to the arrangement
you suggest, as any one of you would object, had you a daughter in
a like position. But you are arbitrary and not inclined to respect
womanhood. Therefore but one course is open to us—to submit under
protest to the unwelcome attentions you desire to thrust upon us."

They listened silently to this frank speech, and some of their faces
wore crestfallen expressions by the time she had finished. Indeed,
one of the older men turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing
among the buildings. After a brief hesitation a delicate young
fellow—almost a boy—followed this man, his face flaming red with
shame. But the others stood their ground.

"Very good, Miss Doyle," remarked Tobey, with forced cheerfulness.
"You are quite sensible to submit to the inevitable. Bring out your
friends and introduce them, and then we'll all go in to luncheon and
prepare for the dance."

"I won't submit to this!" cried the Major, stamping his foot angrily.

"Yes, you will," said Uncle John, with a motion preventing his irate
brother-in-law from drawing a revolver, "Patsy is quite right, and we
will submit with as much dignity as we can muster, being overpowered
by numbers."

He beckoned to Beth, who stepped out of the car and assisted Myrtle
to follow her. A little cheer of bravado had arisen from the group,
inspired by their apparent victory; but when Myrtle's crutches
appeared and they saw the fair, innocent face of the young girl who
rested upon them, the shout died away in a hush of surprise.