Billy made no reply.They reached the river and as Billy knew not where the fords lay he plunged in at the point at which the water first barred their progress and dragging the girl after him, plowed bull-like for the opposite shore.Where the water was above his depth he swam while Barbara clung to his shoulders.Thus they made the passage quickly and safely.
Billy stopped long enough to shake the water out of his carbine, which the girl had carried across, and then forged ahead toward the ranchhouse from which the sounds of battle came now in increased volume.
And at the ranchhouse "hell was popping." The moment Bridge realized that some of the attackers had reached the veranda he called the surviving Mexican and the Chinaman to follow him to the lower floor where they might stand a better chance to repel this new attack.Mr.Harding he persuaded to remain upstairs.
Outside a dozen men were battering to force an entrance.
Already one panel had splintered, and as Bridge entered the room he could see the figures of the bandits through the hole they had made.Raising his rifle he fired through the aperture.
There was a scream as one of the attackers dropped; but the others only increased their efforts, their oaths, and their threats of vengeance.
The three defenders poured a few rounds through the sagging door, then Bridge noted that the Chinaman ceased firing.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Allee gonee," replied Sing, pointing to his ammunition belt.
At the same instant the Mexican threw down his carbine and rushed for a window on the opposite side of the room.His ammunition was exhausted and with it had departed his courage.Flight seemed the only course remaining.Bridge made no effort to stop him.He would have been glad to fly, too; but he could not leave Anthony Harding, and he was sure that the older man would prove unequal to any sustained flight on foot.
"You better go, too, Sing," he said to the Chinaman, placing another bullet through the door; "there's nothing more that you can do, and it may be that they are all on this side now--I think they are.You fellows have fought splendidly.
Wish I could give you something more substantial than thanks; but that's all I have now and shortly Pesita won't even leave me that much.""Allee light," replied Sing cheerfully, and a second later he was clambering through the window in the wake of the loyal Mexican.
And then the door crashed in and half a dozen troopers followed by Pesita himself burst into the room.
Bridge was standing at the foot of the stairs, his carbine clubbed, for he had just spent his last bullet.He knew that he must die; but he was determined to make them purchase his life as dearly as he could, and to die in defense of Anthony Harding, the father of the girl he loved, even though hopelessly.
Pesita saw from the American's attitude that he had no more ammunition.He struck up the carbine of a trooper who was about to shoot Bridge down.
"Wait!" commanded the bandit."Cease firing! His ammunition is gone.Will you surrender?" he asked of Bridge.
"Not until I have beaten from the heads of one or two of your friends," he replied, "that which their egotism leads them to imagine are brains.No, if you take me alive, Pesita, you will have to kill me to do it."Pesita shrugged."Very well," he said, indifferently, "it makes little difference to me--that stairway is as good as a wall.These brave defenders of the liberty of poor, bleeding Mexico will make an excellent firing squad.Attention, my children! Ready! Aim!"Eleven carbines were leveled at Bridge.In the ghastly light of early dawn the sallow complexions of the Mexicans took on a weird hue.The American made a wry face, a slight shudder shook his slender frame, and then he squared his shoulders and looked Pesita smilingly in the face,The figure of a man appeared at the window through which the Chinaman and the loyal Mexican had escaped.
Quick eyes took in the scene within the room.
"Hey!" he yelled."Cut the rough stuff!" and leaped into the room.
Pesita, surprised by the interruption, turned toward the intruder before he had given the command to fire.A smile lit his features when he saw who it was.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, "my dear Captain Byrne.Just in time to see a traitor and a spy pay the penalty for his crimes.""Nothin' doin'," growled Billy Byrne, and then he threw his carbine to his shoulder and took careful aim at Pesita's face.
How easy it would have been to have hesitated a moment in the window before he made his presence known--just long enough for Pesita to speak the single word that would have sent eleven bullets speeding into the body of the man who loved Barbara and whom Billy believed the girl loved.But did such a thought occur to Billy Byrne of Grand Avenue? It did not.He forgot every other consideration beyond his loyalty to a friend.Bridge and Pesita were looking at him in wide-eyed astonishment.
"Lay down your carbines!" Billy shot his command at the firing squad."Lay 'em down or I'll bore Pesita.Tell 'em to lay 'em down, Pesita.I gotta bead on your beezer."Pesita did as he was bid, his yellow face pasty with rage.
"Now their cartridge belts!" snapped Billy, and when these had been deposited upon the floor he told Bridge to disarm the bandit chief.
"Is Mr.Harding safe?" he asked of Bridge, and receiving an affirmative he called upstairs for the older man to descend.
As Mr.Harding reached the foot of the stairs Barbara entered the room by the window through which Billy had come--a window which opened upon the side veranda.
"Now we gotta hike," announced Billy."It won't never be safe for none of you here after this, not even if you do think Villa's your friend--which he ain't the friend of no American.""We know that now," said Mr.Harding, and repeated to Billy that which the telephone operator had told him earlier in the day.
