Part 26 (1/2)

”If only it wasn't for that man whom I'm certain I saw,” thought Peggy as she combed the sand out of her hair, ”I should feel quite relieved, but as it is--Roy, are you still certain you saw that man--the one you pointed the revolver at I mean?”

Roy looked dubious.

”I--don't know,” he confessed.

”Oh, Roy Prescott,” snapped Peggy, ”I--I'd like to shake you.”

CHAPTER XXI

OUT OF THE DESERT MAZE

Twilight was descending on the camp in the arroyo when Jimsy, who had been stationed with a rifle on a b.u.t.te overlooking the desert maze, gave a sudden shout. The next instant his rifle was at his shoulder and he began shooting into the air as fast as he could. As the rapid staccato volley of sound rattled forth all became excitement in the arroyo.

The volley had been the signal agreed upon in case the young sentry caught sight of the missing ones. It came after a wearing night and a still more harrowing day. Following the non-arrival of Peggy and Roy in camp from their hunting excursion a search had at once been commenced, of course without result.

An ascent had even been made in one of the monoplanes, but even a bird's-eye view of the surrounding country failed to discover their whereabouts. Then came the sandstorm, and hope that the missing ones could have weathered it was almost given up. Nevertheless, James Bell, in whom hope died hard, had set Jimsy as sentinel on the lofty b.u.t.te in the wild hope that after all the castaways might turn up.

And now, as the agreed signal rang out, there was a great outpouring from the camp. Aunt Sally, pale and red-eyed from weeping, Mr.

Bell, with deep lines of anxiety scoring his face, Jess, troubled and anxious looking, and old Peter Bell, the former hermit, bearing an expression of mild bewilderment. Last of all came Alverado, the Mexican flotsam of the desert. His inscrutable countenance bore no sign of the suffering he had gone through at the thought that harm had come to his wors.h.i.+pped senorita, but in his heart the Mexican had suffered as much as the rest. He had arrived in camp with the stock the evening before, and had, with difficulty, been restrained from setting forth at once on a search.

”Look!” cried Jimsy pointing as the others rushed up.

They followed the direction of his finger and saw slowly crawling toward the arroyo a red wagon, dust-covered and travel-stained.

In front of it were two young figures on horseback, waving frantically. As the volley rattled out they urged their little horses forward on a dash for the arroyo.

”Thank G.o.d!” breathed Mr. Bell huskily.

Aunt Sally fell into Jess's young arms and wept l.u.s.tily while old Bell broke into a rhapsody:

”Out from the desert safe and sound; Hooray! our boy and girl are found!”

But n.o.body paid any attention to his verses, either to laugh or admire just then. After the cruel anxiety of the past hours the relief was too great for any of them to trust themselves to speak.

But as Peggy and Roy--for of course our readers have guessed it was they--drew closer and their dust-covered features could be plainly seen, a great shout went up from the b.u.t.te. And in it mingled the voice of Alverado, the unemotional.

The girl and boy were fairly lifted from their ponies and carried in triumph into the camp.

”Dig down into the stores,” ordered Mr. Bell, ”Get out all the delicacies we have been savin' for a big occasion.”

”We'll never have a bigger one than this,” declared Jimsy; ”tell us all about it, Roy.”

”Oh, Peggy, you darling, is it really you?” cried Jess for the 'steenth time, with br.i.m.m.i.n.g eyes.

As for old Mr. Bell, as Jimsy observed afterwards, ”he just wrapped poetical circles round himself. You couldn't see him for rhythm.”

”Hullo, folks!”