Mason of Bar X Ranch

“I sure do,” the answer floated back to them. Scotty was riding low in the saddle, jockey style. He was making the ride of his life.

Mason was in a fever of suspense. His horse seemed to be only crawling along.

“Do you think we will be able to head Bud off in time?” There was a catch to his voice as he put the question to Big Joe, who was riding near him.

“Bud has only got about an hour’s start on us, and with the short cut we’re taking I have hope of saving him. If Scotty follows my instructions, everything will go all right, but I am afraid he will attempt to join Bud and get wiped out along with the rest of them. He’s such a hot-headed chump that if he runs into the halfbreed’s gang before Bud’s men do, it would be just like him to tackle them singlehanded,” came the unpromising answer.

The cowboys had turned off the main trail and had struck into the first range of foothills. Here, the climbing was extremely difficult, and a false step or a loose stone would send man and beast to certain death.

They were following a trail leading up into the mountains on the brink of a deep gorge.

Once, Mason’s horse stumbled and he gave himself up for lost with a prayer on his lips, but the faithful animal caught a secure footing again, although he could feel the horse quiver under him.

“Close call, old top,” he said cheerfully to his horse, as he patted him on the neck.

After an age, as it had seemed to Mason, of this kind of travel they reached a small plateau high in the mountains. Big Joe, who was in advance, called a halt, and raised a warning hand.

“Keep quiet as possible, men,” he said as the cowboys dismounted and crowded around him.

“There is Devil’s Gap just to the right of us a within good rifle shot. Scotty must be close by, too. Now, if the halfbreed and Powers are waiting there for Bud, they will keep under cover until he and his men show themselves through the pass. What we have got to do is to pick off the halfbreed’s men before they can get in their deadly work. I figure that they will show themselves just as soon as Bud gets through the pass. We won’t be able to see Bud’s men from here, but them devils will have to show themselves to us, and it’s up to you men to get them first.”

The men silently unslung their saddle guns. They each carried a thirty-thirty Remington repeater. Lying prone on the ground, they covered the plateau of Devil’s Gap while the minutes passed slowly. It was a range of about four hundred yards.

From a point of rock which they had their eyes glued upon, they saw the form of a man rise up with a leveled rifle in his hands.

“Bud must be coming through the pass, get that fellow!” Big Joe cried in a hoarse whisper.

Before the words had died from his mouth a shot rang out and the man with the gun pitched forward.

The shot that laid him low had come from somewhere on their left.

“That’s Scotty getting in some of his fine work,” Big Joe said with a chuckle.

Instantly five other men sprang from behind the rock and the firing became general. At the first shot Bud and his men had charged through the pass and taken to cover. Scotty’s shot had warned Bud that something was amiss and had put him on his guard. The firing had become too hot for the halfbreed and his cut-throats, and they had dropped back behind the rock again.

What they had intended for an ambush had been turned into a siege and they were the besieged.

The one who first rose up from behind the rock still lay where he had fallen. Big Joe commenced signaling to Bud to let him know of their presence.

“There were six men in the halfbreed’s gang, wonder where he got them all?” pondered Mason.

“The fellow that dropped first is one of them four men that joined Ricker’s lately. They are the men that Bud rounded up and sent to prison five years ago,” answered Tex.

“I believe you’re right,” agreed Big Joe. “It would be an easy matter for the halfbreed to get them to join him if they thought they had a chance to get Bud.”

A long silence followed, to be broken by a shot still farther off to their left. The firing increased to a volley of shots.

“Scotty is making it warm for them again,” said with a grin. “He is working around rear of them.”

“They can’t stand that hot fire much longer,” declared Big Joe. “Get ready for the men, they will make a charge soon.”

Five minutes later the halfbreed and his men broke cover and charged into the open, intending to fight their way through. Bud and his men advanced to meet them, and the rifle fire grew so hot that Powers and the halfbreed broke and ran. The men that Bud had sent to prison held firm, and walked straight into his fire with curses on their lips. Bud had been slightly wounded, and with bullets kicking up the earth all around him, it was a wonder he was not killed outright. Bud and Red Sullivan had dropped to their knees and were pumping a hail of bullets into the survivors of the halfbreed’s gang. Slowly they crumpled up and the fight was over.

“Get after Powers and the halfbreed, they are trying to escape,” Bud called to Big Joe.

Mason, who had been trying to get a shot at the ringleaders, saw them break and run like the cowards they were. He immediately set out after them in the hope that they would lead him to Josephine, and he intended to pick up Scotty, who had worked around in the direction of the fleers.

Big Joe had seen Mason mount his horse and start. He shouted something after him, but Mason was too far away to hear. Mason had determined to capture the halfbreed and Powers, and rescue Josephine, if it cost him his life. He kept a sharp lookout for Scotty, but could see no sign of him. Just ahead of him was a break in the mountains, and as he swung through it his keen eyes caught sight of his game. Powers and the halfbreed were only a short distance ahead of him.

They had seen him at the same instant. Mason’s eyes glittered. He pulled a heavy Colt revolver, emptying its chambers after them. A yell of defiance was flung back at him. The halfbreed was riding Josephine’s horse and, pulling sharply around, returned his shots.

The bullets sang uncomfortably close to his ears. His horse was behaving badly and he suddenly determined on a ruse. Powers had halted and was taking careful aim at him. Mason abruptly checked his horse and flung himself to the ground, pulling his saddle gun with him, just as Powers commenced firing.

His horse had been hit and let out an agonizing cry. The outlaws gave a cry of exultation when they saw him fall, thinking he had been killed. Mason had dropped near a large rock and kept a firm grip on his gun. Lying on his shoulder, he drew the rifle to his cheek and taking steady aim, fired.

The halfbreed reeled in the saddle and toppled off. A yell of surprise came from Powers, which quickly changed to alarm as one of Mason’s bullets nipped his face. He wheeled his horse and was off in a flash. It was Mason’s turn to be in an exultant mood. Running swiftly to where the halfbreed had fallen, he caught Josephine’s horse and sprang into the saddle.

The halfbreed cursed him as he mounted. He paid no attention to the cut-throat’s blasphemies as he urged Fleet to top speed.

“Now, Powers, we’re on something like equal terms,” he gritted to himself.

He began to rapidly overhaul the outlaw. The fugitive was getting desperate, and fired back at him several times, but his aim was poor. His grim pursuer was fast cutting down the distance between them.

Powers had his eyes set on a pass to a canyon just ahead of him and was making frantic efforts to reach it ahead of his pursuer. Mason saw his purpose, and spoke encouraging words to his panting horse.

“Faster, Fleet, faster, old boy, we’re going to save your mistress!”

The noble beast responded with a fresh burst of speed. Powers had reached the pass, and abandoning his horse took to his heels, disappearing through the pass. Mason quickly made the pass, dismounted, and looking to his weapons, plunged after him. He could hear his man from an occasional stone he dislodged. He was climbing the steep side of the gorge. Soon, the faint sounds from the outlaw ceased. Mason was puzzled and afraid the fugitive would give him the slip, but he determined to keep on climbing the steep side of the gorge, while running a chance of getting shot from ambush.

After a laborious climb he reached a small plateau where he beheld a sight that brought a cry of rage from his lips. It was Josephine struggling in the arms of the outlaw!

Mason instantly threw his rifle to his shoulder.

“Hands up! Powers, or I’ll fire,” he called sharply.

Powers looked up startled, and with bloodshot eyes.

“Shoot!” he cried savagely, swinging Josephine in front of him as a shield.

Mason lowered his gun in dismay.

“Why don’t you shoot?” Powers taunted him, still holding the girl in front of him.

“You coward!” Mason flung the words at him, his eyes blazing with fury. “Drop the girl and fight me like a man. I’ll fight you empty handed.” Suiting the action to his words, he threw his rifle and revolver on the ground.

Powers sneered.

“If you value this girl’s life, don’t move from your tracks,” he said, with a brutal oath, holding a knife up to Mason’s horrified eyes. “I’ll kill her with this knife if you don’t leave your guns here. Go back down the gorge and give me thirty minutes’ start and you can save her life. I am going to the coast with her and we’ll get married.”