The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  A RACE FOR LIFE.

  "JACK, don't you think we are going too near the corrals?" Oliveinquired timidly.

  It was high noon. The cattle had been brought by the cowboys into theopen field and each ranchman had divided his own stock from the herds.The animals had been driven into the corrals, separate enclosures madeof fence rails, one belonging to each of the neighboring ranches. In theafternoon the branding of the cattle took place, but most of the cowboyshad now gone off to get something to eat before the real business of theday began. Only a dozen men guarded the entire stockade.

  "Oh, no, Olive," Jack answered lightly. "I believe, if we ride a littlecloser, we may get some news of Jim. I would like to see him to ask himsome questions, before we start back home." Jack rode gaily ahead,forgetting her disagreeable scene with Dan Norton. The swarming hundredsof cows and calves, the bright sunshine, the brilliantly blue skyoverhead, the noise and splendid action of the scene interested hertremendously.

  "I think Miss Olive is right, Miss Ralston," Frank insisted gravely. "Wemust not ride too near the stock, for fear of a stampede."

  "Just a few feet more," Jack begged, turning half way around in hersaddle to glance back at Olive and Frank.

  At this moment an immense bull burst out of one of the corrals and madea wild dash across an open field. He was not headed toward Jack, orOlive, or Frank, and there did not appear to be the least danger.

  Two of the cowboys made a rush to cut off the bull's charge but turnedback a moment later to their companions. It was more important for themen to keep the other animals from following their leader, than torecapture the one infuriated beast.

  Jim Colter had warned Jacqueline, when he first gave her the new pony,that "Tricks" was well named. He had told her that she would have towatch the little animal pretty closely, but Jack was a trained rider andso far the mare had not given her any trouble. She had not realized,when she came to the round-up, that "Tricks" was one of the ponies thathad been formerly used by the cow-punchers at the round-ups.

  Tricks saw the bull break away from the stockade and make its plunge forfreedom at the moment that Jack turned her head and slightly relaxed herhold on the broncho's bridle.

  The pony's fighting blood was up. She did not intend to see a bullescape when it was her business as a cowboy's pony, to head him off andturn him back toward the herd. She made a leap forward, runningdiagonally across the plain, in order to cross in front of the bull atthe shortest possible distance. For the first time in her experience,Jack Ralston completely lost control of the horse she was riding; thepony's headlong rush had been too unexpected. Tricks was a good-sizedbroncho with a will of her own and was convinced that she was doing herduty.

  Jack had unfortunately taken off her gloves. People in the West neverride the hard-mouthed little Western ponies, without thick leathergauntlets. She pulled on her reins until they cut into her flesh, butthe pony ran on. Still Jack had no idea of not being able to controlher before she got into danger.

  No one, except Frank and Olive, saw Jack's wild dash. The cowboys wereriding in and out among the corrals, swinging their long ropes andforcing the excited cattle back into their enclosures.

  "Get back out of the way," Frank commanded Olive quickly. Almost beforeshe realized what had taken place, Frank Kent was off like a shot afterthe flying Jack.

  His horse pounded along, but Jack was yards ahead. Frank did not knowwhat he could do, if he reached Jack. He could only grasp her bridle andtry to stop both of their ponies. At best, if he got ahead of her, hemight be able to shut off the bull's mad charge. There would be only oneway to do it and that would be to let the animal rush upon his horse. Heknew nothing of the cowboys' methods. He had no lasso. He had seenpictures of Spanish toreadors with their flaming scarlet scarfs. If heonly had as much as a red handkerchief, perhaps he might divert thebull's course. Of course Frank realized that this would have been aforlorn hope. But nothing really mattered. Jack's pony continued togain on his; he had not a fighting chance of overtaking her.

  Frank hardly dared look at Jack. He could see so clearly what wouldhappen: the range-bred pony would take her straight in front of thefurious bull, not knowing that her rider was not a cowboy and would beunequal to the task of turning the great brute aside. She would do herpart and expected Jack to do the rest. Jack did not have so much as asmall riding whip in her hand, having lost it in her pony's first plungeahead. But she now realized her peril; one glimpse of her face wouldhave revealed this. It was white as marble save for the flying, bronzegold of her hair. Her eyes were wide open and almost black and her lipswere parted. But there was no give-up in her expression; determinationmarked every fine cut line.

  Jack had considered but two alternatives. Either she must stop her wildpony or drive back the maddened bull. Now she knew she could do neither.She was only a few yards from the bull and understood that an animal ina wild rush for liberty, never turns aside unless he is driven.

  Half unconsciously Frank Kent closed his eyes. Jacqueline Ralston hadseemed to him so splendid, typifying to him the free, outdoor life ofthe great West. He realized that Jack had lots of faults, but that shewas the kind of girl who would make a wonderful woman. She was a trueAmerican girl, brave, generous and gay. The thought of her beinginjured, or killed, was horrible. She was the very spirit of youth andenergy.

  Frank looked again. Jack was going to face death squarely, or else todrive her pony across the bull's course, before it reached her. Yet thelast method seemed hopeless, because the pony was master of the race,not Jack. The girl had stooped low in her saddle. Her feet were out ofthe stirrups and she lay almost flat across the pony's back. She seemedto slip to one side. Frank watched for another horrified second. Jackand her horse were not a hundred feet from the bull.

  Then something slid along the ground on the right side of the pony, rana few feet, let go of the bridle and sat down limply in the brown grass.

  Frank shouted as he had never thought it in him to shout. The trick ofdropping from her horse that Jack had just effected, he had seenaccomplished once in a Buffalo Bill show in London. The vision of a girldoing it for her own safety was the most thrilling sight he had everseen in his life.

  Tricks, deserted by her rider, and uncertain what she should do alone,sprang to one side as the bull lunged at her, and the danger was allover in an instant.

  Frank found Jack shaking like one in a chill. But she smiled at himbravely and put out her hand to let him pull her off the ground.

  "Perhaps, Frank," she said, forgetting formalities in her thankfulness,"if I live long enough, I may some day learn to do what I am told.Please take me back to Olive."

  Tricks, exhausted by her wild run, was led back to Jack, a weary andrepentant pony.

  Jack was silent and shaken. She followed Frank back to the spot wherethey had left Olive, without a word.

  The cowboys were returning to the work of branding the cattle and it washigh time the ranch girls started for home. But neither Jack nor Frankcould find a trace of Olive. She had completely disappeared. They rodeover to the spot where they had lunched with Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, butthe automobile party had left for their ranch. Frank inquired of a dozencowboys. No one of them had seen Olive.

  Jack tried not to cry, but the day's experiences had been too much forher. She had never been so utterly wretched before.

  "Don't worry, Miss Ralston," Frank urged. "I'll bet you anything thatMiss Olive has run across your overseer, Jim Colter, and has returned toRainbow Ranch with him."

  Jack shook her head despairingly. "Olive would not go away withouttelling me, for anything in the world," she insisted. "Besides, Jimwould not leave me here. He is somewhere around, won't you find him?"

  Frank insisted that Jack wait in a place of safety a mile farther alongthe trail toward their ranch. For an hour Jack walked up and down a fewyards of barren ground, her pony resting near her. The time seemed aneternity.

  By and by Frank arrived with Jim Colter
. Jim looked sternly at Jack, butshe was past caring what he said or thought of her.

  "Can't you find Olive, Jim?" Jack pleaded.

  "I'll do my best," Jim returned. "Mr. Kent will take you home to theranch."

  "But I can't go without Olive, Jim. I'll stay here until you find her.She has probably just lost her way," Jack entreated.

  "Hope so," Jim repeated shortly. "But in any case, your place is athome."

  Jack hesitated.

  "Haven't you made enough trouble for yourself and other people alreadyto-day, Jack?" Jim questioned keenly. And Jack submissively bowed herhead.