his crew about.
Doris clutched Kitty’s shoulder, and spoke so all the group could hear.
“Look,” she exclaimed, “there is his coat on the slope just below, near that extra big clump of bushes.”
“I see it, but what about it?” Kitty asked.
“Just look at those envelopes spilling out of the pockets,” Doris said. “I’ll bet our missing deeds and papers are there.”
“You’ve better eyes than I have,” Dave commented, “and I passed the eyesight test one hundred per cent before taking up aviation. They may be papers, or they may be handkerchiefs, for all I can see.”
“Well, I’ll find out,” Doris decided.
“How, for instance?” Marshmallow spoke over her shoulder. “Are you going back for a telescope?”
“I’m going down to get theml” Doris announced.
“Doris, you’re not!”
“I shan’t let you!”
“You’ll be shot!”
Doris’s companions chorused their protests, but she paid scant heed to them.
Instead, she crept backward, out of sight of the men in the hollow, and to the astonishment of the others tugged at a big bush until she had wrenched it from the loose soil.
“Camouflage,” she explained. “Protective coloring, or whatever it’s called. Is anybody looking?”
“Wait a minute,” Marshmallow warned, “—the man on top of the hill—all right, he has turned again.”
“Oh, do be careful,” cautioned Kitty.
Holding the sprawling-branched, dense shrub in front of her, Doris sat on the ground and began to move cautiously down the slope by hitching along with her spurred heels.
“I can see, but I hope I’m not seen,” she said as the others watched her descend, apprehension and doubt in their eyes. “Anyhow, my shirt and breeches and boots are the color of the ground. But phew! This bush smells like a freshly-tarred road.”
Breathlessly, the three watched Doris inch down the slope. It was a dramatic scene. The plucky girl was so plainly visible to them that it was incredible she could not be seen by those in front of her.
“If the spy on the hill looks down he’ll be sure to spot her,” Marshmallow whispered.
“That isn’t all that worries me,” Dave replied. “I really don’t think he will watch every bush closely. But look at that other automobile down there. Don’t you recognize it?”
“No, of course not,” the two others replied.
“Well, I do,” Dave said. “It is Ben Corlies’ car. I think he has turned traitor on us!”
“Sure enough, it’s Ben’s,” Marshmallow gasped. “The big crook! Wait until I get my hands on him—”
“Oh, the lookout!” Kitty sputtered.
The horseman posted on top of the hill had dug spurs into his mount and sent it scrambling down toward the drillers.
“He has seen Doris!” Kitty wailed.
“No, he’s getting off,” Dave exclaimed. “Look, he is creeping up the hill on his hands and knees— he has seen someone coming from that side!”
“Doris is just about in grabbing distance of the coat,” Kitty added.
It was a hair-raising moment!
Suddenly, from behind them came the frightened snort of a horse, then a shrill whinny followed by the clash of hoofs against the rocks.
“Dodge!” yelled Marshmallow, throwing away all caution.
The three rolled and scrambled close to the banks of the gully as Doris’s pinto dashed past them, fire in his eye, and charged down the slope —in a straight line for his missing rider!
“There goes the old ball game,” yelled Dave, jumping to his feet. “You two ride as fast as you can to the ranch for help. Bring everybody. I’ll stay here and cover Doris’s retreat.”
He pushed and tugged at Marshmallow and Kitty, saw them mount, and gallop toward the ranch.
Then Dave rushed back to see what was happening in the hollow. There was the panic-stricken pony, evidently stampeded by a snake, galloping across the bottom, and the workmen spreading to head it off. There was Henry Moon running toward his car.
But Doris. Where was she? Dave could not see her anywhere.
He rubbed his eyes and stared again.
Doris had vanished as completely as if the ground had swallowed her!
CHAPTER XIX
Two Missing
Neck and neck Kitty and Marshmallow galloped up the rocky canyon.
“Can’t you go faster?” Marshmallow panted. “N-no! Can’t you?” the girl called in reply.
“I didn’t mean you, Kitty,” Marshmallow said. “Talking to this horse.”
He drummed with his heels on the broncho’s lean sides.
“Dave will send Doris on his horse, I guess,” Kitty gasped. “He’ll hide out until we bring help.”
“Li-listen,” Marshmallow answered, the breath nearly jolted from his body. “Suppose I get offand go back to help D-Dave stand off those crooks? You lead my pony—whoops! Nearly went off that time!—and when yours tires, change to mine.”
“You—you stick to me, Marshall Mallow!” Kitty replied. “I’m not sure of the way and I’m almost scared to death!”
“All—all right!” Marshmallow puffed. “I’ll stick to you if I can stick to this grasshopper.” Saving their breath, the two galloped on in single file up the sloping arroyo. The sides grew shallower and closer together, the ground rockier and shrubbier.
Suddenly Kitty saw Marshmallow’s horse’s nose pass hers, until he was a full neck in the lead.
“Where—did—your horse get its—second wind —oh! oh! Marshmallow!”
Kitty made a grab at the loose rein of her companion’s steed, which was darting ahead of her, riderless.
The horses halted willingly enough, their sides heaving.
Kitty turned, prepared for the worst. What she saw was superlative to the worst.
Marshmallow had disappeared!
Kitty’s chin trembled, and a tear streaked its way down her dusty cheek.
Never
