CHAPTER XXIV
THE RATTLING BUCKBOARD
"Quick, Nort! Pull him back out of the heat and call the others!We've got to save those men!"
"What's the matter?" Dick cried as he came up. "Aren't they out ofthat furnace yet?"
"No--they're trapped inside! We've got to get them out! BilleeDobb--is--is he dead?"
"No--he's better! He insisted on my coming over when he saw the smoke.Thought I might be needed. No time for talk now--we've got to getbusy!"
"It's sure death to enter that!" Hawkins cried as another huge tongueof flame shot heavenward, sending the boys reeling back. "You'll onlythrow your lives away!"
"I can't help it--we must do something! We can't see them burned todeath!"
At that moment Bud felt a tug at his sleeve. He jerked around. At hiselbow was the Mexican cook. He motioned to himself, then toward thecellar. Then he leaped forward.
"Follow him!" Bud cried. "He knows how to get in safely!"
With a rush the others were on the heels of the Mexican.
"Someone has got to stay here--help them out if we do get them!"exclaimed Hawkins. "Nort--you and Dick wait!"
Bud was directly behind the Mexican. He saw the man disappear downinto the smoke, and taking a full breath, the boy followed. He foundhimself below ground, and for a moment hesitated to get his bearings.The air was choking, but the heat was not intolerable. The fire hadnot quite reached the lower floor.
There was no time to be lost, for any minute the building mightcollapse and bury them. Bud plunged on. He could see faintly now, andhe caught a glimpse of a figure in front of him, beckoning.
"Go--ahead!" the boy gasped. "Coming!"
A few steps further and he stumbled against a door. At his side wasthe Mexican, pointing. Bud pushed frantically, but the door refused tobudge. Then he found the reason. It was bolted.
"You--you locked them in! You inhuman----"
He saw the Mexican shrug his shoulders. Even in the burning buildingthe Latin's philosophical mind did not desert him.
Bud struggled with the bolt. It stuck. He strove with all hisstrength--and the door flew open. The boy stumbled in. His footstruck a body stretched upon the floor.
He reached down and lifted the unconscious man to his shoulder. Behindhim he heard a voice. It was that of Yellin' Kid.
"Give him here!" The Kid seized the limp form and passed it to someoneat his side. "We'll get 'em out like a bucket-brigade! Pass 'em tome, Bud!"
Through the smoke Bud groped his way. His hand encountered anotherbody. In a moment he lifted the man and passed him to the Kid. Hishead felt as if it were bursting, but on he struggled, seeking, handsoutstretched. He passed another body out to the Kid. Another. Thenhe heard a moan and turned toward it. A man lay against the wall. Hishands moved feebly, and even in the smoke and gloom Bud, could seeblood streaming from a cut on his head. The boy bent over and graspedthe man's arm. His face was within an inch of the other's.
"Delton!"
The boy's cry was involuntary. Here, under his very hands, was the manwho was the cause of their misfortunes--who had committed crimes, notelling how many, and who had perhaps shot one of their comrades. Andyet Bud was risking his life to save this creature. Was it fair toask----?
A low moan came from the wretched figure. Bud looked for a long momentat the blood-stained face. Then with a sudden heave he lifted him andstaggered to the door.
"I'll take him!" he gasped to the Kid, who had reached for the burden."See if there are any more!"
He heard Yellin' Kid smashing against the walls in an effort to locateother senseless figures. Then he followed Bud.
"Can't find any more. Ask the Mex how many----"
The cook heard the inquiry and flung his arms wide, indicating that therest had made their escape. The Kid, gasping, plunged out into theopen.
As he gulped in great mouthfuls of the welcome fresh air the Kid hearda sudden crash. He turned quickly. A shower of sparks and flames shotinto the air, like the eruption of a volcano. There was another roar,and the next moment the building was in ruins. The walls hadcollapsed, and nothing remained of the structure but a pile of embers.With horror written on his face, the Kid looked wildly about him.
"Bud!" he almost screamed. "Bud--is he in there? Get him out--gethim----"
"All right, Kid--all right--" said a voice by his side. It was Bud.The Kid stared at him for a long minute, with a suspicious moisture inhis eyes. Then he laid his hand on Bud's shoulder.
"Thought--you were--" he said in a husky voice. And he did a strangeyet a boyish thing. He withdrew his hand from Bud's shoulder andplanted it hard under the other's ribs.
"Baby!" he exclaimed. "We sure did clean up that place! Threw themout like bags of corn. Anybody hurt bad?"
The two, their faces blackened and with clothes torn, walked toward thegroup of men gathered about the injured. They saw the forms stretchedon the ground, and for a moment feared that their rescue work had beenin vain.
The boy ranchers looked at the figure upon the ground. The man groanedand opened his eyes. He stared straight into the eyes of Bud. For amoment hostility glared out at the boy, then Delton half closed hiseyes as though he were trying to think. The men gathered about werequiet, watching their prisoner. He wet his lips with his tongue.
"Thanks," he murmured, and held out his hand with a feeble gesture.Bud reached down and grasped it with a smile.
"Don't mention it," the boy said quickly. Then he straightened up andlooked over to Mr. Hawkins. "Say, are you thinking the same thing Iam?" he asked the agent.
"You mean, where are the Chinks? You bet I'm wondering that! Wait, Ibelieve I can find out. Hey, Mex!" The agent called to the cook whowas standing on the edge of the group. "Come here! You know him?"
He pointed to a man seated on the ground, leaning against a tree, withone of his sleeves burned entirely away. The arm was scorched. Butwith his other hand the man was calmly holding a cigarette.
The Mexican cook looked at him and then nodded briefly.
"He's your brother, isn't he?"
Another careless nod.
"Then you ask him what became of the Chinks!"
"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Dick wanted to know.
"Tried it--won't answer. I think his brother can make him talk."
This proved to be correct. The cook bent over his brother and made afew rapid motions with his fingers. The seated man muttered something.Again the cook's fingers moved. This time his brother answered more atlength, and the cook walked in the direction of a small shed, motioningto the others to follow. Nort and Mr. Hawkins trailed along behind.When they reached the shack the cook pointed to it.
"In there?" the agent asked doubtfully. It didn't seen large enough tohold more than two men. It had probably been used to shelter a calfwhen the place had been run by a farmer.
The Mexican nodded. Hawkins stepped to the small door and jerked itopen. A bundled-up mass of humanity almost tumbled into his arms, andwhen they untangled themselves, there were not two Chinese, but five!
"How in thunderation did you all ever get in there?" Nort inquiredwonderingly. "Hey, you! Quiet down! We're not going to hurt you.What do you think this is, a circus? Gee! They were like sardines!"
The Chinese were as excited as rabbits, and chattered away in evidentfear. None of them spoke English, and it was some time before theycould be made to understand that no harm was intended them.
As the agent returned to the little group of wounded and others, he sawthem centered about something and all talking at once. He quickenedhis pace and in a moment saw the cause of the commotion.
"Billee Dobb!" he exclaimed. "Golly, I'm glad to see you moving again!How did you get over here?"
"Dick and Yellin' Kid carried me," the veteran rancher answered with asmile. "Like a silly baby! They jest lifted me up an' brung me along.Said I had to see the last act, anyway."
"How are you feeling?" Hawkins asked anxiously. "I wanted to go to yousoon as I heard about it, but I couldn't, Billee."
"Sure, I know you couldn't. I was all right. Dick stayed by me untilI had to threaten him with a six-gun to get him to help you people.Why, I'm feelin' O. K. now. Jest got me in the shoulder. Laid me outfor a spell--I ain't as young as I was--why, I remember the time when Igot an arrow full in the side--didn't phase me none--went right on andgot the guy that shot it--I was a man in them days--I remember----"
"Now, Billee, take it easy," Bud said gently. "Tell us all about itlater. You got lots of time. Thirsty?"
"A leettle," the rancher replied with a sigh. Bud leaned over and heldhis canteen to the other's lips. Billee took a long drink and sighedagain. "Tired," he said weakly. "Want to sleep."
He lay back on the blanket. Bud drew the edges over him and motionedthe others away. "Let him sleep. Best thing in the world for him.We'll take him back later. I don't want to move him until that woundgets good and quiet."
"What about these others?" Nort inquired. "We want to get them out ofthe way. There are five men who can't walk. Then there's two more whomanaged to get out without being burned. They're here too. We've gotto get them all back some way. Can't walk them, and we haven't enoughhorses. What do you think, Mr. Hawkins?"
"Let me see," the agent said. "It is a problem, Nort. Bud, have you asuggestion? The sooner we can get the bunch to town the quicker we'llget something hot to eat. And a little sleep wouldn't harm us any.Think of anything, Bud?"
"Well, if--" The boy stopped and listened intently. In the distancehe heard the sounds of horses. Then as they approached nearer thecreaking noise of a wagon traveling fast came to him. The next momentall heard a voice yelling:
"Get along there, boys! Watch it--watch it! Pete, you spavin-backcayuse, come out of that! Quit side-steppin'! At a baby--now yoregoin'! Out of that hole! Out of it! Pete! Pete! You dog-earedknock-kneed bleary-eyed paint, if you don't swing wide I'll skin youalive! You, Pete!"
A rattling buckboard popped into view like the presiding genius of ajack-in-the-box.
"It's our friend from town--from the store!" Nort exclaimed.
"Yes, and look who's with him!" Bud yelled. "It's Dad! Yea, Dad!Golly, I'm glad you came! You're just in time!"
Boy Ranchers on Roaring River; Or, Diamond X and the Chinese Smugglers Page 24
