Chapter XXII: Flying Bullets

Finally Nort spoke.

"What about Billee?" he asked.

"Dick's taking care of him as best he can. Poor old geezer--" the Kid bit his lip sharply. "He told me--he was sorry it happened, 'cause now he'll miss the fun."

"How did he look, Kid? I mean----"

"Can't tell, Nort. He's hit pretty bad. Course we don't know for sure--he's pretty old, you know----"

"But tough as a board," Hawkins broke in. "I know his kind. Don't worry boys. I'm sure he'll pull through O. K. Kid, is Bud coming with us?"

"Said he'd be right here. Want to wait he comes, before going closer?"

There was a halt in the determined march toward the ranch house. There seemed to be but little formal plan in the boys' attack; simply to "get those guys an' get 'em good," as the Kid expressed it. But now that the first shock of learning of Billee's wound had passed, all realized how hopeless it would be to simply go up and take Delton. Some sort of a scheme of attack was necessary if anything was to be accomplished.

"Here's Bud now," Hawkins said as the boy rancher rode toward them. There was a sober look on his face.

"How goes it?" the Kid asked, anxiously.

"Pretty fair. He's got a chance, I think. Bleeding's stopped. Dick's got him covered up with a saddle blanket over there a ways. If I get a crack at Delton----"

"How'd it happen, Bud?" asked Hawkins quickly. It was evident that he wanted the boys to control themselves. It was dangerous work they were about to start, and thought must be clear and quick, unimpeded by external circumstance.

"From what I gather from Dick, Billee sneaked up to take a look in one of the windows, and someone snipped him. He just made the shelter of the trees and fell unconscious."

"Well, men, that means we have an additional reason for taking Delton." Mr. Hawkins looked about him to be sure all were listening. In the east the red rim of the morning sun was bulging over the horizon. The time for action had come.

"Nort, come over here a minute, will you? Hold my bridle rein while I see if I've got that paper with me."

The boy, wondering a little, seized the rein while Hawkins went through his pockets. The agent's eyes were riveted on Nort's hand. It was as steady as a rock.

"Never mind--guess I won't need it. All right." Hawkins took the reins from the boy, satisfied by his little ruse that Nort was not affected by his lack of sleep. The business before them called for a firm hand and nerve.

Hawkins was speaking in a low voice.

"Can you men all hear what I'm saying? If not, get closer. Now listen. We've got to figure this thing out, or fail again. And if we don't take Delton this time, I'm afraid we never will. At least that's the way it seems to me. Here's what I thought. We'll ask him to surrender and come with us peaceably. We are bound to do that. They know by this time that we are on their heels, and can cause trouble for them if they attempt an escape now. I believe they'll bide their time, and make a rush for it. That's what we have to be ready for. I'm going up there with a flag of truce, and demand that they give in to the law."

The agent dismounted and, drawing his gun, he tied to the barrel of it a white handkerchief.

"You mean to say you're goin' to walk right up there in broad daylight, after what they did to Billee?" Yellin' Kid asked in a tone of surprise.

"I am. It's my duty. Besides, it's safe enough. No one but a fool would shoot a man bearing a white flag, when they're in Delton's position. It'll go hard enough with them as it is. I have an idea they might agree to come peaceably.

"Well I haven't," the Kid said grimly. "The only way we'll get those skunks out of their hole is to pull them out!"

Hawkins shrugged his shoulders and prepared to set out. They all walked to the edge of the trees, and just as the sun burst forth in all its glory Hawkins started across the open space toward the ranch house.

The boys watched him with anxious eyes. Would he cross safely, or would he be shot down like a dog? There was no sign from the ranch house. All activity had ceased as though the occupants had been frozen into stillness. Nearer and nearer walked the agent, head up, the gun with the handkerchief tied on it held in front of him. Still there was no sign of life inside the house. When the agent reached within ten feet of the place, the boys saw him stop and look closely at the quiet house.

"Hey, you!" he yelled.

"Nervy guy," the Kid commented, "He might easily get creased, standin' there yellin'. Me, I wouldn't put it past that bunch!"

Suddenly a window flew up and a head poked out. It was a stranger, none of the boys ever having seen the fellow before.

"What do you want?" the man demanded in a truculent tone.

"I call upon you to surrender, in the name of the law!" said Hawkins.

"You what?" Without waiting for an answer, the head drew in but the window remained open. In a moment the head reappeared.

"What are you talking about? Why should we surrender?"

"You're under arrest for smuggling, and for assault and battery with intent to kill!"

"You don't say!" The head popped in. Then in a moment----

"Who are you--John Law?"

"I happen to be a federal agent. But I'm not here to give you my history. Do you surrender?" The boys could hear the sting in the agent's words.

"Wait a minute." Once more the head disappeared. This time it stayed back for some minutes. The watching boys were moving uneasily. Finally another came to the window--it was Delton. The agent gave no sign that he knew him.

"Want to speak to me?" asked Delton, an imperious note in his voice.

"Makes no difference who I speak to. I want to know if you'll surrender, and give yourselves over to the law."

"What for?"

"You know well enough! Smuggling, and shooting!"

"It was that bird's own fault that he got shot. What's he want to come sneaking around for? Serves him right! As for smuggling, who said we were smugglers?"

"Never mind about that." The agent was speaking quickly now. "I ask you once more, do you surrender?"

Unwittingly Hawkins lowered his gun on which was the flag of truce. There was a sudden report, and a spurt of dust arose at the agent's feet.

"There's our answer!" Delton yelled, and slammed down the window.

Hawkins wasted no time in returning to the waiting boys.

"That's that," he said grimly, and he removed the handkerchief from his gun. "We got to go after them. Kid, where's Billee Dobb resting?"

"Over there behind that bend. Want me to go over and see how he's makin' out?"

"Yes. In the meantime, where's that meat and bread you brought, Nort? Everybody grab some. Got water over there for Billee, Kid?"

"Yep; Dick's got a canteen full, and he's got Billee's shoulder tied up with his shirt. We can't do anything more for him 'til we get home."

"I hate to think of Billee lying out there hurt," Bud said a trifle sadly. "Think we all better go over and see him?"

"No, I don't," Hawkins said decidedly. "The Kid knows what he's talking about, and if he says we can't do anything more for Billee, there's no use tracking over there and getting him excited. Here, now, everybody get some of the food Nort brought."

"Not so hungry," Bud said, looking longingly toward the window where they had last seen Delton.

"Eat anyway, Bud. You'll need it. And stop worrying about Billee. I'm sure he'll make out all right."

On his way to the injured man the Kid brought some of the bread and meat for Dick. The others, though they protested they weren't hungry, ate as much as Nort carried. All felt better after this refreshment.

Within five minutes the Kid was back.

"Better!" he called as he came up. "Dick says he's getting along O. K. Took some of the food and wanted to know if he could be shifted to where he could see the fireworks. He's quiet now, though. Dick's afraid he'll start a hemorrhage if he moves around much."

"He might, too," Bud agreed. "It's best to keep him as quiet as possible. Well--when do we start?"

Hawkins had been standing by the side of his pony. Now he mounted and faced the house.

"We start now!" he said. "First we have to decide how to close in. I think Nort and I had better come in from the left. Kid, you and Bud get around to the extreme right. In that way we can cover the whole ground. Nort and I will start first, and try to make the door.

"When I shoot, you start, Kid. If we can get into the house, the rest is easy. I know that bunch. Fine when they're on top, but as soon as anyone gets under their guard, they welch. That's the reason I think we can make it. But listen--" and the agent's voice dropped. "This is a mighty risky business. I don't want anyone to get in this against his will. No telling what may happen. Are you boys willing to take a chance?"

Bud was the first to speak.

"Mr. Hawkins," he said, "I think I know the others well enough to speak for them. When we started this thing, we did so because it was our duty, and, I might as well admit it, because of the excitement. Since then something has happened. Billee Dobb was shot. Are you answered?"

"I am," said the agent, with an understanding look. "All set then, boys. Around that way, Bud. Wait for three shots, then close in--fast. Let's go!"

Bud and Yellin' Kid started for the right of the house. The moment had come. Before many more minutes passed, the plan would have either succeeded, or there would be fewer men able to walk around the ranch house. Hawkins and Nort drew their guns, and headed their ponies to the left, throwing them into a gallop. They crouched low in the saddles. What was in their minds as they made ready for that desperate charge? Fear? Hardly that. A turmoil of excitement, probably.

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.