CHAPTER XXI--A PERIL OF THE SADDLE
Helen and Jennie, as they had promised, kept away from the ridge wherethe gold-bearing rock had been found. But the next afternoon when Ruthwent for a gallop over the hills she chose a direction that would bringher around to the rear of the ledge.
She left her pony and climbed the hill on foot. For some distance alongthe length of the ledge and toward what was believed to be the richerend, Flapjack and Min had staked out the claims. They followed the twostaked by the lame young man and his partner, and "R. Fielding" was onthe notice stuck up on the one next to the claims of the mysteriousyoung man and his partner.
"Well, nobody's disturbed them, that is sure. Tom is pounding away justas fast as he can go for Kingman. Dates and time mean much inestablishing mining claims, I believe. But if Tom gets to the countyoffice and files on these claims before this other party can get on thesite to jump them--if that is what they really mean to do--in the end weought to be able to get judgment in the courts."
Yet, somehow, she could not believe that "the hermit" was the sort ofman who would do anything crooked. Satisfied that none of the stakes hadbeen disturbed she returned to her pony and started him into the eastagain.
In a few moments she found herself following that half-defined path thatshe had ridden on the day she had first seen the secret cabin and thelame man in it. She had never mentioned this adventure to any of thegirls. Ruth was, by nature, cautious without being really secretive. Andwhen a second person was a party to any secret she was not the girl tochatter.
She hesitated, if the pony did not, in following this route. Half adozen times she might have pulled out and taken a side turn, or riddeninto another arroyo and so escaped seeing that hidden cabin again.
It must be confessed, however, that Ruth Fielding was curious. Verycurious indeed. And she had reason to be. The gymnasium cap she had seenin "the hermit's" cabin pointed to a most astounding possibility. Shehad not believed in the first place that "the hermit" was entirely alonein this wild and lonely spot. Now he had admitted the existence of apartner. Who was it?
She was deep in thought as her pony carried her at an easy canter downinto the arroyo at the far end of which the cabin stood. Suddenly hermount lifted his head and challenged.
"Whoa! what's the matter with you? What are you squealing at?" demandedRuth, tightening her grasp on the reins.
She glanced around and saw nothing at first. Then the pony squealedagain, and as it did so there came an answering equine hail from themesquite. There was a crash in the bushes; then out upon the open groundcharged the lone stallion that had the day before troubled the picturemaking company.
There was good blood in the handsome brute. He was several hands higherthan the cow pony, and his legs were as slender and shapely as aMorgan's. His muzzle was as glossy as satin; his nostrils a deep red andhe blew through them and expanded them with ears pricked forward andyellow teeth bared--making altogether a striking picture, but one thatRuth Fielding would much rather have seen on the screen than here inreality.
She raised her quirt and brought it down upon her pony's flank. Hesprang forward under the lash but was not quick enough to escape the madstallion. That brute got directly in the path and they collided.
Ruth was almost unseated, while the clashing teeth of the free horsebarely grazed her legging. He snapped again at the rump of the plungingpony, but missed.
The girl was seriously frightened. What Ben Lester and the othercowpuncher had said about the stallion seemed to be true. Did he havehydrophobia just the same as a dog that runs mad?
Whether the beast was afflicted with the rabies or not, Ruth did notwant either herself or the pony bitten. She had seen enough ofhalf-tamed horses on Silver Ranch in Montana to know that there isscarcely an animal more savage than a wild stallion.
And if this black and white beast had eaten of the loco weed which, insome sections of the Southwest is quite common, he was much moredangerous than the bear Min Peters had shot as they came over fromYucca.
She tried to start her pony along the bottom of the arroyo on the backtrack; but the squealing stallion had got around behind them and againcharged with open jaws, the froth flying from his curled-back lips.
So she wheeled her mount, clinging desperately with her knees to hisheaving sides, and once more lashed him with the quirt.
Since she had ridden him that first day out of Yucca Ruth had been inthe saddle almost every day since; but so far she had never had occasionto use the whip on her pony. He was a spirited bit of horseflesh, notmuch more than half the size of the stallion. The quirt embittered him.
Although he wheeled to run, facing down the arroyo again, he began tobuck instead. His heels suddenly were thrown out and just grazed thestallion's nose, while Ruth came close to flying out of her saddle andover his head.
If she was once unhorsed Ruth suddenly realized that her fate would besealed. The stallion rose up on his hind legs, squealing and whistling,and struck at her with his sharp hoofs.
It was a moment of grave peril for Ruth Fielding.
Again and again she beat her mount, and again and again he went up intothe air, landing stiff-legged, and with all four feet close together.Then she swung the stinging lash across the face of the stallion.
It was a cruel blow and it laid open the satiny, black skin of the angrybrute right across his nose. He squealed and fell back. The pony whirledand again Ruth struck at their common enemy.
Lashing the stallion seemed a better thing than punishing her ownfrightened mount, and as the mad horse circled her the girl struck againand again, once cutting open the stallion's shoulder and drawing bloodin profusion.
The fight was not won so easily, however. The pony danced around andaround trying to keep his heels to the stallion; the latter endeavoredto get in near enough to use either his fore-hoofs in striking, or histeeth to tear the girl or her mount.
And then Ruth unexpectedly heard a shout. Somebody at the top of hisvoice ordered her to "Lie down on his neck--I'm going to fire!"
She saw nothing; she had no idea where this prospective rescuer stood;but she was wise enough to obey. She seized the pony's mane and lay asclose to his neck as possible. The next instant the report of a heavyrifle drowned even the squealing of the stallion.
He had risen on his hind feet, his fore-hoofs beating the air, the foamflying from his lips, his yellow teeth gleaming. A more frightful,threatening figure could scarcely be imagined, it seemed to the girl ofthe Red Mill in her dire peril.
At the rifle shot he toppled over backward, crashing to the earth with ascream that was almost human. There he lay on his back for a minute.
Out of the brush hobbled the young man named Royal. He was gettingaround without his crutches now. The gun in his hand was still smoking.
"Have you a rope?" he shouted. "If you have I'll noose him."
"No. I haven't a rope, though Ann is always telling me never to ridewithout one in this country."
"I think she's right--whoever Ann is," said the young man, with thathumorous twist to his features that Ruth so liked. "A rope out here ishandier than a little red wagon. Come on, quick! I only creased thatstallion. He may not have had the fight all taken out of him--theferocious beast!"
The black and white horse was already trying to struggle to his feet.Perhaps he was not badly hurt. Ruth controlled her pony, and he washeaded down the arroyo.
"Where is your horse, Mr. Royal?" she asked the lame young man.
He started and looked a little oddly at her when she called him that;but he replied:
"My horse is down at the cabin. I was just trying my legs a little.Glory! I almost turned my ankle again that time."
He was hobbling pretty badly now, for he had been too excited whileshooting the mad stallion to be careful of his lame ankle. Ruth was outof the saddle in a moment.
"Get right up here," she commanded. "We'll get to your cabin and besafe. I can go back to camp by another way."
"Not alone
," he declared, firmly, as he scrambled into her place on thepony. "I'll ride with you. That beast is not done for yet."
But the stallion did not pursue them. He stood rather wabblingly andshook his head, and turned in slow circles as though he were dazed. Therifle shot had not, however, permanently injured him.
They were quickly out of the sight of the scene of Ruth's peril. Theyoung man looked down at her, trudging hot and dusty beside the pony,and his face crinkled into a broad smile again.
"You're some girl," he said. "I'd dearly love to know your name and justwho you are. My--That is, my partner says you are a bunch of movie actorsover there at Freezeout. But, of course, that old-timer who was up onthe ridge and the girl in--er--overalls, were not actors. How about you?"
"Yes," said Ruth, amusedly. "I act. Sometimes."
"Get out!"
"I did. Out of my saddle to give you my seat. You should be morepolite."
He burst into open laughter at this. "You're all right," he declared."Do you mind telling me your name?"
"Fielding. Miss Fielding, Mr. Royal."
He grinned at her wickedly. "You've got only half of _my_ name," hesaid.
"Indeed?" she cried. "Yes, I suppose, like other people, you must have afirst name."
"I have a last name," he chuckled.
"What?" Ruth gasped. "Isn't Royal----"
"That is what I was christened. Phelps is the rest of it--Royal Phelps."
"I knew it! I felt it!" declared Ruth, stopping in the trail and makingthe pony stop, too. "You are Edith Phelps' brother. I was puzzled as Icould be, for I believed, since the first day I met you, that must be soand that she had been with you at that cabin."
"Why," he asked curiously, "how did you come to know my sister?"
"Go to college with her," said Ruth, shortly, and moving on again. "Andshe was on the train with us coming West."
"And you did not know where she was coming? Of course not! It was asecret."
"She knew where _we_ were coming," said Ruth, briefly.
"Then you're not a movie actress?"
"I'm a freshman at Ardmore. But I do act--once in a while. There are aparty of us girls from Ardmore, with one of the teachers, roughing it atFreezeout Camp. The movie people are there, too. We are acquainted withthem."
"Well, I'm mighty sorry my sister isn't here----"
"Is she your partner, Mr. Phelps?" Ruth asked.
"Sure thing! And a bully good one. When I was hurt and couldn't ride sofar, she set off alone to find her way over the trails to Kingman."
"Oh!" Ruth cried. "Aren't you worried about her? Have you heard----?"
"Not a word. But it isn't time yet. Edith is a smart girl," declared thebrother with confidence. "She'll make it all right. I don't expect herback for a week yet."
"Oh! but we expect Tom----"
"What Tom?" asked Phelps, suspiciously.
"My chum's brother. He started--started day before yesterday--for Kingmanto file on our claims. We expect him back in ten days, or two weeks atthe longest. Why, we shall probably be all through taking the picturesby that time!"
"Look here, Miss Fielding," said the young man, his face suddenlygloomy. "Can't you fix it so we can buy up your claims along that ridge?It means a lot to me."
"Why, Mr. Phelps!" exclaimed Ruth, "don't you suppose it means somethingto the rest of us? If it is really a valuable gold deposit."
"Not what it means to me," he returned soberly, and rode in silence therest of the way to the cabin.