The Boy Ranchers on Roaring River: or, Diamond X and the Chinese Smugglers

As they dashed out into the open Nort gave a quick glance toward the window. He could see nothing save darkness within. It took but a few seconds for them to reach the side of the house. Hawkins looked over at Nort. The boy nodded. Now!

They raced madly toward the house. Bang! A shot rang out, and a puff of smoke came from one of the windows. Nort's hat went sailing away as though it were on a string. Bang! Nort saw the agent's pony falter, then recover and go dashing on. Now they were almost to the house. It had seemed as though one of them surely would be hit, for they were speeding across perfectly open territory and the occupants of the house were firing rapidly.

But, somehow, luck was with them. They reached the porch safely. And just as Hawkins was about to give the signal for Bud and the Kid to attack, he saw something that stayed his hand.

From the rear of the house a volume of black smoke was pouring.

CHAPTER XXIII

A RING OF FIRE

"Wait, Nort!" Hawkins yelled. "Stick close to the house! Get in close! Not the front – this way! This way!"

He pulled his horse over to one side and held him as near the side wall of the ranch house as he could get. Nort followed him, also hugging the wall. In that way they were protected from the bullets of Delton's men.

"See what happened?" the agent exclaimed. "The place is on fire! Now they've got to get out, and they'll run right into our hands. How I hope the Kid has sense enough to stay away and nab them when they come out!"

The smoke was billowing out in huge clouds, now. It was a frame house, and a firetrap if there ever was one. Now the flames licked through, and the boards started to burn as though they had been soaked with gasoline.

"Can you sneak around the corner and signal to Bud?" suggested Hawkins. "Tell him to stay back. Wonder how in thunder this fire ever got going?"

Nort walked his mount toward the front, still keeping as close to the side of the house as possible. All gun-fire from within the burning place had now ceased, but the boy was taking no chances. There were but two windows on that side of the house, and their rooms were not occupied, so that as long as the ranchers kept hugging the wall they could not be shot at. The firing as they approached had evidently been done from an angle.

Hawkins's horse was prancing wildly about. His eyes were focused upon the tongues of flame that spurted out of the rear of the building.

"They can't stay in there much longer!" Hawkins yelled. "How about their ponies? Know where they keep them?"

"Easy to find out. Let's do it – quick. We ought to get around to where the Kid and Bud are and join forces. Ready?"

Hawkins nodded, and once more the two flashed across the open ground, this time away from the danger zone. But there was no need for such haste, for not a shot followed them.

"The horses!" Nort yelled as he rode up. "Get them, Bud, and Delton won't have a dog's chance!"

"Got 'em!" Bud answered. "Soon as we saw the fire I went to where they had them tethered and led 'em over here. There they are, by that tree. Say, I wonder who started this thing?"

"What makes you think someone started it?" Hawkins asked, looking at him closely.

"Well, I figure it couldn't set itself – and it's not likely an accident would happen."

"Can't tell – like as not a lamp turned over. Wow, look at that roof go! Where can those birds be keeping themselves? What chance have they got now?"

"Probably trying to put it out from inside. Foolish thing to do, but they know as soon as they come out they're finished. I wouldn't deliberately set the place on fire, but it sure solved our problem for us."

As the fire raged more fiercely, the ranchers looked at each other. What had happened to Delton? Could it be that he determined to stick it out until the last moment, and risk a horrible death? Surely he must realize that in peaceful surrender lay his only hope.

Suddenly Bud uttered a cry.

"Here comes someone! Out of the cellar! Look!" Running toward them was a bedraggled figure. Clothes torn, face blackened with smoke, it presented a truly pitiful picture. As it ran it waved its arms wildly. Something in the appearance, or possibly its gesture, caused Bud to exclaim:

"Say, he looks familiar! Kid, Nort – know who that is?"

The boys looked curiously at the wretched man. Now he was almost upon them, and they could see his eyes glaring wildly. He reached them and fell to the ground, exhausted. Bud dismounted quickly and bent over him.

"Get up!" he commanded. "Let's have a look at you!" The man dragged himself to his feet. At a sight of his face, blackened as it was by the smoke, all started back.

"Well, what do you know about that!" the Kid cried. "It's our Mexican cook!"

"What are you doing here?" Nort asked sharply. "You with Delton? Hey? Tell the truth now or I'll hit you!"

"He can't talk!" Bud protested. "Give him a chance. He's all in. Come here, Mex." The boy held out his arm and the Mexican seized it and steadied himself. "Were you with Delton?" Bud asked.

The Mexican shook his head negatively. Then he pointed to the burning building and waved his arms wildly.

"Steady up!" Bud commanded. "Take it easy!"

The man took a deep breath and regained control of himself. But his gestures were still inexplainable. After a minute of vain gesticulating the Kid suddenly exclaimed:

"I think I get it! Mex, listen here: Did you set that fire?"

A vigorous nod of the head. The boys looked at each other in surprise.

"What for?"

The Mexican pointed to himself, then held up two fingers. Then he pointed to the house, and shook his fist.

"Be means his brother!" the Kid said. "What about him, Mex? Did Delton get hold of him?"

Another nod, and more furious gestures.

"I see!" cried the Kid. "He means Delton put his brother up to some dirty work. That right, Mex?"

Eagerly the man signified yes.

"And he did this to get back at him. But where is Delton, Mex? Why doesn't he come out? He'll be burned to death in there!"

The fire had eaten its way through to the front of the house and now the whole upper story was ablaze. It seemed impossible that any living creature could withstand those flames.

"Where's Delton, Mex?" the Kid persisted.

The cook pointed to the house then to the ground.

"The cellar!" Bud cried. "He means they're hiding in the cellar! That's the reason they can stay in there so long. We should have thought of that before."

"They'll soon be out," spoke Hawkins a trifle grimly. "The fire is reaching the lower story. We may expect a rush any minute now."

The men were standing in a group at the edge of the trees. With the house directly in front of them, and the country about perfectly flat, there was no chance of anyone escaping unseen. The flames mounted higher. There was a certain amount of awe in the faces of all as they thought of the tortures a person would endure if he were trapped in that furnace. And for all they knew, men might be burning to death in front of them! It was a harrowing situation. Even though they had shot Billee Dobb, it was an inhuman thing to wish, or even think, of them being caught in a burning building.

If they would only come out, even though they came shooting! Bud saw a huge tongue of flame shoot out of the roof.

"I can't stand this any longer!" he shouted. "Those men must be burning to death! I can't stay here and watch that. I'm going to – "

"But what can you do?" Nort asked. "They want to stay there until they're good and ready to leave. I don't see how we can help them. Certainly I don't want to see anyone burned to death, but I don't think we can do anything, except go in and get them, which we can't do; and if they won't come out, they won't."

"Perhaps they're trapped!"

"You'd know it if they were. They'd yell or something. No matter how much they want to escape, they won't risk getting burned. No man would."

"Then why don't they come out?" Bud persisted.

"Ask me something easier! Maybe the Mex can tell us something about it. Hey, Mex! Why they no come out?"

But this time the cook shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands wide in a gesture expressing ignorance. They could get no information there.

"I'm going to ride over and see!" Bud exclaimed, a ring of determination in his voice.

"Well, if you want to – then I'll go with you. Kind of wonder where they are myself." This from Nort.

They had to force their horses to head toward the fire. The sparks were flying high, and the heat could be plainly felt even at the distance the boys stood. But finally Bud and Nort got the ponies started.

The animals approached the fire with mincing steps. The boys had to force them continually onward, for no beast will go toward fire willingly. A few more steps and Nort said:

"Say, Bud, there's not much point in this. The broncs will never go near enough for us to see anything. What say we get off and walk? I don't think there's much chance of Delton shooting at us. If we really want to find out anything we better get off these horses."

"Guess that's right," agreed Bud as his mount reared high. "Fast, though – snap to it, Nort!"

The boys turned their ponies away from the fire and rode swiftly back. They dismounted and without hesitation, ran again to the burning house. They made for the side, from where the Mexican cook had staggered out.

"There ought to be an entrance to the cellar about here," Bud panted as he ran on. "The Mex said they were down there!"

As they neared the building they saw that this was so. A small door indicated the way to the cellar. The heat was tremendous, and Nort wondered if their errand hadn't been in vain. It didn't seem possible that there living creatures were voluntarily remaining within.

Just as Nort was about to tell Bud his thought, a figure emerged and staggered toward them. It was the man who had protested at Delton's treatment of Bud when the boy had been taken, bound, to this very house. The man was in sad case. His breath was coming in sobs, and he maintained an upright position only by a supreme effort. One side of his face was badly burned.

"Help – " he gasped. "Help – men in there – "

"What is it? Speak quick!" Bud commanded. "Can't they get out? Are they in danger?'

"Trapped! Delton – in there – can't move – hit on the head – "

The next moment the man collapsed at their feet, unconscious.

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 of that furnace yet?"

"No – they're trapped inside! We've got to get them out! Billee Dobb – 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 get busy!"

"It's sure death to enter that!" Hawkins cried as another huge tongue of flame shot heavenward, sending the boys reeling back. "You'll only throw your lives away!"

"I can't help it – we must do something! We can't see them burned to death!"

At that moment Bud felt a tug at his sleeve. He jerked around. At his elbow was the Mexican cook. He motioned to himself, then toward the cellar. 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 down into the smoke, and taking a full breath, the boy followed. He found himself below ground, and for a moment hesitated to get his bearings. The air was choking, but the heat was not intolerable. The fire had not quite reached the lower floor.

There was no time to be lost, for any minute the building might collapse and bury them. Bud plunged on. He could see faintly now, and he 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 was the Mexican, pointing. Bud pushed frantically, but the door refused to budge. 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 building the Latin's philosophical mind did not desert him.

Bud struggled with the bolt. It stuck. He strove with all his strength – and the door flew open. The boy stumbled in. His foot struck a body stretched upon the floor.

He reached down and lifted the unconscious man to his shoulder. Behind him he heard a voice. It was that of Yellin' Kid.

"Give him here!" The Kid seized the limp form and passed it to someone at his side. "We'll get 'em out like a bucket-brigade! Pass 'em to me, Bud!"

Through the smoke Bud groped his way. His hand encountered another body. In a moment he lifted the man and passed him to the Kid. His head felt as if it were bursting, but on he struggled, seeking, hands outstretched. He passed another body out to the Kid. Another. Then he heard a moan and turned toward it. A man lay against the wall. His hands moved feebly, and even in the smoke and gloom Bud, could see blood streaming from a cut on his head. The boy bent over and grasped the 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 man who was the cause of their misfortunes – who had committed crimes, no telling how many, and who had perhaps shot one of their comrades. And yet Bud was risking his life to save this creature. Was it fair to ask – ?

A low moan came from the wretched figure. Bud looked for a long moment at the blood-stained face. Then with a sudden heave he lifted him and staggered 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 locate other 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 the rest had made their escape. The Kid, gasping, plunged out into the open.

As he gulped in great mouthfuls of the welcome fresh air the Kid heard a sudden crash. He turned quickly. A shower of sparks and flames shot into the air, like the eruption of a volcano. There was another roar, and the next moment the building was in ruins. The walls had collapsed, 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 – get him – "

"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 in his eyes. Then he laid his hand on Bud's shoulder.

"Thought – you were – " he said in a husky voice. And he did a strange yet a boyish thing. He withdrew his hand from Bud's shoulder and planted it hard under the other's ribs.

"Baby!" he exclaimed. "We sure did clean up that place! Threw them out like bags of corn. Anybody hurt bad?"

The two, their faces blackened and with clothes torn, walked toward the group of men gathered about the injured. They saw the forms stretched on the ground, and for a moment feared that their rescue work had been in vain.

The boy ranchers looked at the figure upon the ground. The man groaned and opened his eyes. He stared straight into the eyes of Bud. For a moment hostility glared out at the boy, then Delton half closed his eyes as though he were trying to think. The men gathered about were quiet, 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 and looked over to Mr. Hawkins. "Say, are you thinking the same thing I am?" he asked the agent.

"You mean, where are the Chinks? You bet I'm wondering that! Wait, I believe I can find out. Hey, Mex!" The agent called to the cook who was 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, with one of his sleeves burned entirely away. The arm was scorched. But with 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 a few rapid motions with his fingers. The seated man muttered something. Again the cook's fingers moved. This time his brother answered more at length, and the cook walked in the direction of a small shed, motioning to 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 to hold more than two men. It had probably been used to shelter a calf when the place had been run by a farmer.

The Mexican nodded. Hawkins stepped to the small door and jerked it open. A bundled-up mass of humanity almost tumbled into his arms, and when they untangled themselves, there were not two Chinese, but five!

"How in thunderation did you all ever get in there?" Nort inquired wonderingly. "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 evident fear. None of them spoke English, and it was some time before they could be made to understand that no harm was intended them.

As the agent returned to the little group of wounded and others, he saw them centered about something and all talking at once. He quickened his 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 a smile. "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 you soon as I heard about it, but I couldn't, Billee."

"Sure, I know you couldn't. I was all right. Dick stayed by me until I 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 out for a spell – I ain't as young as I was – why, I remember the time when I got an arrow full in the side – didn't phase me none – went right on and got 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 it later. You got lots of time. Thirsty?"

"A leettle," the rancher replied with a sigh. Bud leaned over and held his canteen to the other's lips. Billee took a long drink and sighed again. "Tired," he said weakly. "Want to sleep."

He lay back on the blanket. Bud drew the edges over him and motioned the 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 wound gets good and quiet."

"What about these others?" Nort inquired. "We want to get them out of the way. There are five men who can't walk. Then there's two more who managed to get out without being burned. They're here too. We've got to get them all back some way. Can't walk them, and we haven't enough horses. What do you think, Mr. Hawkins?"

"Let me see," the agent said. "It is a problem, Nort. Bud, have you a suggestion? The sooner we can get the bunch to town the quicker we'll get 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 distance he heard the sounds of horses. Then as they approached nearer the creaking noise of a wagon traveling fast came to him. The next moment all heard a voice yelling:

"Get along there, boys! Watch it – watch it! Pete, you spavin-back cayuse, come out of that! Quit side-steppin'! At a baby – now yore goin'! Out of that hole! Out of it! Pete! Pete! You dog-eared knock-kneed bleary-eyed paint, if you don't swing wide I'll skin you alive! You, Pete!"

A rattling buckboard popped into view like the presiding genius of a jack-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!"

CHAPTER XXV

YELLIN' KID FINDS HIS BRONC

The wagon came to a sudden stop, and Mr. Merkel jumped out.

"Hello, son! Howdy, boys! Say – what happened here? Bud – how did you get burned? You hurt?" There was a note of anxiety in the father's voice.

"Not a bit, Dad! Just blackened up a little. Had a fire, and we had to pull some men out. Look at that!"

The boy pointed to the mass of embers that was once a house. The fire had died down until now there was only glowing bits of wood left. It had started quickly and ended as suddenly.

"Anybody seriously burned?" Mr. Merkel looked at his son keenly, as though to satisfy himself that he was uninjured. The father's glance evidently convinced him that Bud was all right, for he turned quickly and said to the others:

"Where's Billee Dobb? I don't see him."

"Billee is the one who is really hurt, Uncle," Nort answered. "He's got a piece of lead in his shoulder. He's asleep now – be all right later, I think."

"Shot! The rascals! They'll suffer for that! You want to get Billee to a doctor as soon as possible, before infection sets in. We'll bring him back in the wagon."

"How did you happen to come here, Dad?" Bud asked curiously. "I didn't think you knew where we were."

"I didn't, exactly. I have a confession to make, Bud. You weren't sent out here to herd sheep. You were sent to do just what you did – to capture the smugglers."

"But – but why didn't you tell us?"

"I couldn't, Bud. I gave my word to the government that I'd not let on the reason I was sending you out here. You see, no one could tell just what would happen. If you knew that you were sent to go after smugglers, and you went after the wrong gang, things would be in a pretty mess. So they concluded that it was best to leave you in the dark. I'll admit I favored telling you, boys, but as it turned out, the other way may have been best. Even as it was, I let slip something about it. And when you weren't at the ranch I figured you might be in this direction. I sort of suspected this place. Well, all's well that ends well. Now what, boys?"

"If we can get that wild buckboard man to drive slowly, we have a load of passengers to take back. Oh, say, Dad, do you know Mr. Hawkins? I don't know whether you – " Bud paused suggestively.

"Yes, indeed," Mr. Merkel said with a smile. "We're old friends. He came to me long ago and arranged most of this scheme. Sorry we had to do it, boys – but the government seems to know its business!"

"I'm glad you look at it in that light, Mr. Merkel," the agent said as he shook hands. "We have to be very, very careful – and a slip that may seem trivial to others may mean success or failure to us. But let me say that these boys have more than come up to expectations. I have never seen a better – "

"Hey, hey, take it easy!" the Kid laughed. "It might go to our heads. But one thing, Mr. Hawkins. It's about – "

"I know – the reward! And you get it, too, boys. As soon as we get to town I'll give you a check that's in my office safe. You have certainly earned it."

"Now we can get a new bunch of longhorns!" shouted Dick gleefully. "Great stuff! That's worth going without a night's sleep for!"

"And the radio," Nort broke in. "We get that, too!"

"You and your sparkin' outfit," Yellin' Kid scoffed. "You want music with your grub, I guess!"

"Say, Mr. Hawkins, what's the penalty for smuggling in this state?" Bud inquired. "I just wondered – "