Bucks, with clenched hands, watched and prayed for the arrival of the speeding relief train. The moments passed with leaden feet and the train had many miles to come. The despatcher continued his encouraging messages, but did not cease his words of caution, and, as the wreckage burned, Bucks perceived the Indians were riding in great numbers up the creek. Too late he realized what it meant. They were looking for the ford and were about to cross to his side.
CHAPTER XI
He lost no time in sending a final word to the despatcher before he started for safety, and his call was sounding when he ran back to the key.
“Stanley’s train has passed Chimney Butte,” said the despatcher. “Soon be with you.”
Words over the wire never sounded better to the frightened boy than those words.
“The Indians are crossing the creek,” Bucks answered. “Am off for the ranch.”
He closed the circuit and ran out on the platform. The warriors had found the ford and the horses of the head braves were already leading a file across. Bucks threw one hurried look at them; then, summoning his strength for an endurance run, he started, with the station building between him and the enemy, for the ranch.
He had hardly got under way when, as he reached higher ground, he saw to his consternation a party of Indians in the bottom land between him and safety.