A Great Fear
The incident of the escaped rustlers was forgotten for the time while Belle prepared for her visit to the 8 X 8. Mr. Manley discarded his gun the day she was to leave, whether because of what he had heard at Eagles or because he deemed it no longer necessary, was a matter for speculation. At all events, he had recovered his good humor and directed many quips at the care Roy and Teddy were taking with their appearance before they set out. It had been arranged that the brothers were to drive Belle over in a car and return later in the evening.
“I see you boys are goin’ some place,” Mr. Manley said, as he stood at the door of their room, hands deep in his pockets, corncob pipe emitting clouds of fragrant smoke.
“Taking a ride,” Teddy answered, without turning. He was adjusting his tie at the mirror. Roy, beside him, was occupied in the same manner. Teddy just touched his brother with his elbow, and winked in the glass.
“Well—er—any particular place?” their father asked innocently.
“Vienna,” Teddy replied, grinning.
“Vienna, hey?” Mr. Manley considered this for a moment. “Goin’ to a show there?”
“Nope,” and Teddy winked again. “Just going to loaf around a bit.”
“Goin’ to loaf around—” Then Mr. Manley woke up and sent out a roar of laughter. “Good shot, Teddy! You’re gettin’ better! Be almost a match for me soon. Well, good luck to you, an’ don’t take any wooden nickels!” Still chuckling, he tramped away.
“Dad seems to be O. K. now,” Roy remarked, as he gave his tie a final twist. “I’m glad to notice it. I don’t like to see him worried. Come along, you look beautiful! Get a move on! We’ve got to get started.”
“Just a second.”
Opening the top drawer of the dresser, Teddy took out two pistols, both smaller than the large guns usually carried in that vicinity. One of these he handed to Roy and the other he placed in an upper inside pocket under his left arm. Roy nodded in approval.
“Just in case,” Teddy explained, and, putting on their coats, the two boys descended the stairs.
They told their father, out of hearing of Mrs. Manley, however, who might worry unnecessarily, that they were armed. The ranch owner commended their foresight and remarked that he was about to suggest it himself. He knew the boys were to be depended upon. Living on the range brings self-reliance early in life, and Mr. Manley felt proud of the fact that his sons were true men of the West—courageous and upright.
As the car rolled out of the ranch yard with Roy driving and Belle and Teddy beside him in the front seat, Sing Lung burst from the door of the cook-house.
“Late!” he yelled. “You late!”
“What’s he mean—‘late?’ ” Teddy asked curiously.
“He means wait,” Belle answered, with a smile. “Hold up for a minute, Roy. He wants to give us something.”
Sing Lung ran towards them, a package in his hand. A broad grin lighted his face.
“You maybe get hungly, yes?” he said, placing the package in Belle’s lap. “I flix lunch!”
“That’s very kind of you, Sing Lung,” Belle declared, smiling her gratitude. Belle was plainly the cook’s favorite. “We’ll be glad to have this. Thank you, a lot!”
“All lite!” with a still wider grin. “You wal-com’. Goo’-bye. Have nice time! Jumpee allee slidewalks!”
“He means skip the gutter,” Teddy explained, laughing, as the car proceeded. “Nick must have taught him that. ‘Jump the slidewalks!’ That’s a hot one! Trust the Chinks to get everything backwards.”
“Never mind; Sing Lung is one good Chink,” Roy declared. “This lunch will sure come in handy.”
“ ‘Jump the slidewalks’ means ‘skip the gutter,’ and ‘skip the gutter’ means—perhaps, ‘jump the slidewalks?’ Now, just what did Sing Lung mean, boys?”
But Belle’s brothers refused to be drawn into explanations or argument.
Seven miles out from their home ranch a report suddenly sounded from under the car, and it lurched crazily. Roy jammed on the brakes vigorously.
“Blowout,” he said shortly. “Might have known that ’ud happen! Just when we get rolling along nicely, the tire goes. Well,” he jumped from the car and bent down, “she’s done for, all right. And any one who pulls that old chestnut about ‘only flat on one side’ will have to fix it all alone! Come on Teddy—you posing for a statue?”
Teddy grinned, and alighted, as did Belle. Luckily, there were two good spares on the rear, so there was no danger of a long delay. The jack was soon out, and one of the tires taken from the rack.
When Roy had lifted the spare in position for tightening the lugs, he stood back for a moment and looked around him.
“This is a great place for a rattler,” he declared, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Pop said he saw a whole nest of ’em somewhere around here.”
“Thought you said Pop was full of crazy ideas?” Teddy retorted, thinking of the porcupine incident when he had told Roy about Pop’s believing the “shooting quill” theory.
“Well, he may not know porcupines, but he sure does know about snakes,” the elder youth asserted. “And if you’re wise, you won’t go fooling around a spot where Pop says there are rattlers. This is one swell day for ’em, too! Hand me that lug wrench, will you, Teddy?”
Teddy complied, and assisted Roy in fastening the tire to the rim. When it was firmly attached, Roy straightened and heaved a sigh of relief. As he did so his eyes swept the horizon, and he stared intently, one hand shading his eyes.
“What is it, Roy?” Belle asked, looking at her brother.
“Dust,” Roy answered. “See it, Teddy? Top of that hill. Whoever’s making it must be just below the rise. Wonder if it’s some of Pete Ball’s men? Likely to be. Come on, let’s get this stuff away and start. We haven’t got far to go, but that sun’s hotter than all get out. Teddy, how about making yourself useful, and putting some of these tools away?”
“Sure,” his brother answered. “Thought you wanted to do it all yourself.”
A pair of pliers had fallen to the ground from the running board, and Teddy stooped to pick them up, his other hand resting on the door of the car, while he groped for the tool, bending down low.
“Golly, it’s sure hot!” he exclaimed, still groping and searching. “Why couldn’t the tire have blown out under a tree? Say, where in thunder are those pliers, anyhow?”
“Maybe it ’ud help if you looked for ’em, instead of watching that cloud of dust,” Roy declared, grinning. “Belle, can’t you help your little brother find the pliers?”
“Got ’em!” Teddy suddenly exclaimed, as his hand closed over them. “They were away under the car, and I couldn’t see gettin’ down in this dirt to look for ’em. Anyway—”
He started to withdraw his hand. There was a sudden loud “whir-r-r” as though a strip of tin were rapidly bent and released. Roy saw Teddy’s whole body give a convulsive shudder and watched his face go deathly pale. Pop Burns’ warning flashed to his mind.
“Teddy!” he cried, jumping forward. “Your hand!”
Belle screamed, and ran to her brother’s side. Quickly she seized the left arm that had been under the auto and turned it over so that the back of the hand was uppermost. A thin line of blood showed red against the tan.
Teddy looked at it as though he were examining a curiosity. Then he laughed—at least, that is the only word to describe the sound that came from his lips. In a moment he stopped, and caught his breath.
“Got me,” he said simply.
The three stood by the side of the car, shocked into silence. Belle retained her hold on Teddy’s arm. Roy, his eyes wide, stared at the few drops of blood. Teddy’s shoulders were thrown back, every muscle rigid. He looked straight ahead.
Roy was the first to move. He reached out quickly, and seized his brother’s wrist in a firm grip, squeezing it with all his strength.
“Belle,” he said in a low voice, “reach into my pocket and bring out a handkerchief. We’ve got to make a tourniquet, so the poison won’t get up his arm. Quick!”
Drawing in a deep breath, Belle obeyed. Teddy swayed slightly, then got a grip on himself. His teeth clenched.
“Roy,” he said quietly, “hold my arm over a way.”
Wondering, Roy changed his position. Teddy reached inside his coat with his right hand, and drew out a gun. Then Roy understood.
Whatever happened, they must kill that rattler. He had bitten—he must die. His head must be blown from his body, and they must cut him with lead until his lashings ceased and the tail grew still.
Eyes blazing, Teddy once more bent over. Roy retained his desperate grip on his brother’s wrist. Belle, eyes wide with horror, stepped back. The scene was almost too much for her, Western bred though she was. Teddy, bitten by a crawling death, calmly intent on just one thing—killing the snake that had bitten him! Roy holding back the poison from his brother’s body with one hand, while he steadied him with the other, so that he might not miss!
With her heart in her throat, Belle waited for the shot. After the snake had been killed—what? She could picture Teddy sitting stoically in the car as it careened its way toward the ranch—Teddy, his arm black from the tourniquet, perhaps remarking that Roy would have to take charge of the place for the rest of the week and would he see that Flash got enough exercise, and all the while his lips were twisted with burning pain! Teddy!
Would he never fire? What was he waiting for?
“Shoot! Oh, shoot!” Belle gasped. “Teddy—kill him and come away!”
Still the two boys were bent over, staring beneath the car. Then Belle saw Roy slowly release his hold on his brother’s wrist. A sound strangely like a chuckle came from him. What—what had happened?
“Teddy! Roy!” Belle cried. “What is it? Why are you waiting? The snake—”
For a moment she thought her brothers had gone mad, and well she might, for, straightening up, the boys burst into roars of laughter. They leaned weakly against the side of the car, Teddy’s gun hanging limply, his body shaking with mirth! Roy was pounding him on the back, while he himself was scarcely able to stand. This was more than laughter, it was almost hysteria—the hysteria of great and sudden relief.
Then when Roy caught sight of his sister’s face, he sobered.
“It’s all right, sis,” he declared, tears of laughter still in his eyes. “Don’t look so scared. We’re not crazy—and Teddy isn’t hurt. He didn’t get bitten by a rattler at all!”
“Didn’t—didn’t—get bitten! Roy, I don’t understand—”
“Look!”
He motioned to his sister to bend down and peer under the car. As he did so Roy’s hand reached out—and there followed that same “whir-r-r-r” they had heard before.
“Get it?” Roy exclaimed, his laughter starting up again. “This—this piece of tin under the running board! See? When I hit it, it whirs. Teddy’s hand scraped it, and it buzzed and scratched his hand. And we thought it was a rattler! Oh, baby, what a couple of saps! Wait till dad and Nick hear about this!”
“He didn’t get bitten?” Belle repeated, hardly able to realize what had happened. “There wasn’t any snake?” she questioned incredulously.
“Nary snake—just this tin! That’s all!”
With a sob of relief, Belle threw her arms around her brother’s neck.
“Oh, Teddy!” she gasped. “I’m so glad—so glad! Oh, Teddy, I thought you were going to die! And when you were bending over with the gun, just thinking about killing the old rattlesnake, I—I—”
“Hey, sis, come out of it!” Teddy said a trifle shakily. He kissed her full on the lips. “Thought you’d have to play jokes on Roy all alone after this, did you? Well, I’m still here—and we won’t forget how he teased you the other night on the porch, either! We’ll get him for that! I got a great idea—only he’s listening now. When we get home—”
It was just this that was needed to calm Belle. The strain she had been under had been terrific, and it is no wonder that, when it was over, she broke down. But now she dried her eyes and raised her head.
“Only a piece of tin!” she exclaimed, a smile coming over her face. “And even Teddy thought he had been bitten! But whatever it was—I’m glad you’re all right, Teddy dear! And now, I have an idea.”
Belle was once more herself. Patting her hair, she walked steadily toward the car. Then she flung open the door and held up a white package. It was the lunch Sing Lung had prepared.
“Gentlemen,” she cried, “dinner is served! Long live Sing Lung! Come and get it!”