Part 12 (1/2)

At the same instant there appeared the leaders of the onrush.

Great, half-famished looking brutes, whose red mouths gaped open ferociously and whose eyes burned wickedly.

But Roy had hardly had time to shout his warning before an accident, entirely unexpected, occurred. His foot caught on a stone and he came down with a crash. The next moment the pack would have been upon him, but Peggy jerked the rifle she had selected to her shoulder and fired into the midst of the savage horde. With a howl of anguish one of the creatures leaped high in a death agony and came toppling down among his mates, a limp, inanimate ma.s.s. This checked the surging onrush for an instant, and in that instant Roy was on his feet and sprinting briskly toward the girls.

Straight for the aeroplanes they headed. Reaching them they entrenched themselves in what they could not but feel was an immensely insecure position.

”Thank you, sis,” was all that Roy, with a bit of a choke in his voice, was able to gasp out before the leaders of the pack were on them.

More by instinct than with any definite idea, the young people began desperately pumping lead into the seething confusion of gray backs and red gaping mouths.

All at once poor Jess, half beside herself with terror, gave a throaty little gasp.

”I think I'm going to faint,” she exclaimed feebly.

Peggy gave her a sharp glance.

”You'll do no such thing, Jess Bancroft,” she said sharply, although the pity in her eyes belied the harshness of the words, ”if you do I'll--I'll never speak to you again!”

The words had their calculated effect, and Jess made a brave rally.

At almost the same instant a shot from Roy's rifle brought down the largest of the creatures of the desert, a big hungry looking brute with tawny, scraggy hair and bristling hackles. As he rolled over with a howl of anguish and rage a sudden wavering pa.s.sed through the pack. It was like a wind-shadow sweeping over a field of summer wheat.

”Hooray, we've got them beaten!” shouted Roy, enthusiastically.

The lad was right. Their leader fallen, the remainder of the pack had seemingly no liking for keeping up the attack. Still snarling they began to retreat slowly--a backward movement, which presently changed into a mad, helter skelter rush. Panic seized on them, and down the dry arroyo they fled, a dense cloud of yellow, pungent dust rising behind them. In a few seconds all that remained to tell of the battle in the gulch were the still bodies of the brutes that had fallen before the boy and girl aviators' rifles.

They were contemplating the scene when, from further up the gully, there came a sound that set all their pulses beating.

It was the shout of a human voice.

”Thank heaven you were not too late!”

While they were still standing stock still in startled immobility at the recognition of Mr. Bell's voice, there came another hail.

”h.e.l.lo, Jess! h.e.l.lo, Peggy and Roy!”

Emerging from the cloud of dust which was still thick, there staggered toward them two uncanny looking figures in which they had at first some difficulty in recognizing Mr. Bell and Jimsy Bancroft.

But when they did what a shout went up!

It echoed about the dead hills and rang hollowly in the silent gully. An instant later the reunited adventurers were busily engaged in exchanging greetings of which my readers can guess the tenor. Then came explanations.

”On arriving in the arroyo,” said Mr. Bell, ”Jimsy and I decided to set out at once to examine the mine site, and lay if off for purposes of proper location with the United States government. I must tell you that the mine--or rather the site of it--is located in that cavern yonder further up the arroyo.”

”Why it was round the entrance to that that the coyotes were gathered when we first dropped!” cried Peggy.

”Exactly. And very much to our discomfort, too, I can tell you,”

rejoined Mr. Bell dryly.