The Young Engineers in Arizona Part 32

Two or three minutes pa.s.sed. Then Mr. Ellsworth leaped from his seat in the foremost automobile, standing erect in the car and pointing excitedly.

"Look there!" he shouted l.u.s.tily. "What's happening?"

Away off, at the further side of the Man-killer, a horseman had suddenly ridden into sight from behind a sand pile. His swiftly moving pony had gotten within three hundred yards of the chief engineer before Tom looked up to behold the newcomer.

From where the railroad officials watched they could hear nothing, though they saw a succession of indistinct spittings from something in the right hand of the horseman.

"It's a revolver the fellow's shooting at Mr. Reade!" gasped Superintendent Hawkins, leaping into the car beside the general manager.

"Turn your speed on, man--make a lightning lash across the Man-killer!"

Away shot the automobile, not wholly to the liking of two eastern men who sat in the directors' car.

Tom Reade had realized his danger. Having nothing with which to fight, Reade had sprung his horse eastward and was racing for life.

The unknown had emptied his weapon, but that did not deter him, for, continuing his wild pursuit, the stranger could be seen to draw another automatic revolver.

The bullets striking all about Tom's pony ploughed up the sand.

Within a minute the men in the speeding automobile were close enough to hear the sputtering crackle of the pistol shots.

"There goes Hazelton right into the face of death!" gasped Mr.

Ellsworth, who remained in a standing position. "Foolish of the boy, but magnificent!"

Harry had turned some time before, but now those in the automobile saw that Hazelton was riding squarely to Tom's side, despite the constant fusillade of bullets.

Both pistols were now emptied, but the pursuer, letting his reins fall on the neck of his madly galloping pony, was inserting fresh cartridges in the magazine chambers of his pistols.

CHAPTER XIX. THE SECRET OF ASHBY'S CUNNING

At a considerable distance behind the automobile came another rescue party. This was made up of about two score of Arizona hors.e.m.e.n. Many of these men were armed. At the saddle bows of some of the hung raw-hide lariats that the owners unwound as they sped forward.

Tom Reade, with the pursuer slowly, but steadily gaining upon him, had discovered the ident.i.ty of the man who seemed bent on his destruction.

As Hazelton drew nearer Tom waved his left hand frantically at his chum.

"Turn about, Harry! Ride back like the wind!" shouted Tom. "It's Ashby, and he's shooting to kill. About face--you young idiot!"

Harry took no notice of the warning, reining in only slightly, then wheeling and riding in a line with Reade, though about forty feet to one side of him.

Ashby, a wild light in his eyes, heavily armed, and riding madly, kept up a continuous fire in his effort to destroy the young chief engineer.

Honk! Honk! honk! came the warning from the automobile horn. The car dashed at full speed toward the vengeful rider, as though about to run him down.

George Ashby, however, was not easily intimidated. One swift glance had a.s.sured him that the automobile bore no armed men. He therefore merely swung his horse out of the path of the on-coming car and continued to aim at Reade, though he now took more time between shots. On Hazelton he did not waste a shot.

Helplessly and vainly the automobile whizzed by pursuer and pursued.

"Ashby, stop this madness!" cried Mr. Ellsworth hoa.r.s.ely.

The pursuing rider never faltered. Now the party of Arizona hors.e.m.e.n were riding nearer. Two or three of the leaders drew revolvers, opening fire on the mad hotel man, though the range was as yet too great for effective work.

In another thirty seconds George Ashby would doubtless have dropped to the dust of the dessert, riddled with lead. Suddenly, however, he gave his horse's head a sharp turn to the right. In an instant he was riding back, shooting no more, and Tom Reade had pa.s.sed safely out of range.

With wild whoops the Paloma hors.e.m.e.n dashed on. Their mounts were not spent as was that of the hotel man.

"Don't shoot the fellow, if you can help it!" Tom Reade had called, as the hors.e.m.e.n swept by him. "Rope Ashby if you can."

Suddenly the hotel man's mount was seen to stagger slightly. It was sufficient to pitch Ashby, who was not on his guard.

With wilder whoops the Arizona men spurred their ponies on. There was a whirring of lariats and no less than three nooses had fallen over the hotel man's head.

There came a brief interval in which the men, swooping down on the captive, concealed him from the view of others.

Out of this crush soon came order. Then it was seen that Ashby had been roped securely and was being led back to the railroad camp.

"We've got the scoundrel, with four ropes. .h.i.tched to him," called one of the captors.

"One rope will be enough as soon as we can find a tree."

The party was riding into the railroad camp now, and a dense crowd pressed forward to see the face of the keeper of the Mansion House.

Ashby was chuckling gleefully. If any fear of the consequences of his lawless behavior oppressed him, he was far from betraying the fact.

"Be gentle with him, friends," Tom urged, riding forward.

"Yes; we ought to be gentle with every rattlesnake," came an answer from the crowd.

Ashby laughed harshly.

"You can't hurt me, neighbors," declared the hotel man. "I'm bullet proof. Any man who fires at me will find that the bullet will rebound and bit him. Tie me up to a tree, if you like. You'll find that I won't choke. I'll just slide back to earth as often as you tie me up."

"Just what I thought," murmured Tom.

"What do you think?" demanded Mr. Ellsworth from the car.

"The man's as mad as a March hare," replied Reade.

"Humph! He's merely shamming," retorted the general manager.

"Stow the funny business, Ashby!" came the advice from the crowd. "You can't fool us into believing that you're crazy."

"Crazy?" repeated the hotel man, a look of amazement creeping into his face. "Of course I'm not crazy. I'm the only sane man in this crowd."

Men began to look wonderingly at the hotel man, though many still believed that Ashby was cleverly shamming insanity in order to save his neck from being stretched.