Pete was about to strike her; but he darted back and stood erect. The horses were plunging madly down the hillside through the brush. The party of rescue was already upon the camp.
The scoundrelly Pete leaped away to reach his own horse. He must have found the creature quickly in the darkness; for before the men from the Bar-T pulled in their horses before the smouldering campfire, Frances heard the rush of Pete’s old pony as it dashed away down the stream.
“Daddy!” cried Frances for a third time. “We’re here–Pratt and I. Look out for Pratt; he’s hurt. I’m all right.”
“Somebody throw some brush on that fire!” commanded the old ranchman. “Let’s see what’s been doing here.”
“Sam, take a couple of the boys and go after that fellow. You can follow that horse by sound.”
He climbed stiffly out of his own saddle, and when the firelight flashed up revealing the little glade to better purpose, it was Captain Dan Rugley who lifted Frances to her feet and cut her bonds.
CHAPTER XXVI
FRANCES IN SOFTER MOOD
It was the next day but one and the hacienda and compound lay bathed in the hot sun of noon-day. Captain Dan Rugley was leaning back in his usual hard chair and in his usual attitude on the veranda, fairly soaking up the rays of the orb of day.
“Beats all the medicine for rheumatism in the doctor’s shop!” he was wont to declare.