“Well, I rather guess I’m the doctor—and you’ll find it out!” retorted Mrs. Bowser.
“Put down the rifle, won’t you?” pleaded Sandy. “It might go off without you intending it should. Now, we’re not going, you don’t need it.”
“Say, you fellows must think I am easy,” smiled the woman. “I won’t put it down—and what’s more, Amy and I are going to follow you with it to the corral, so you won’t have the chance to give us the slip!”
It having been the foreman’s purpose, after persuading Mrs. Bowser to lay aside the rifle, to make a dash for the plains, when he realized from the determined woman’s words that his scheme was frustrated, he relieved his feelings by cursing.
But a way out of the difficulty was presented in an unexpected manner!
Ere the cowboys had ridden a rod back toward the horse yard, both they and the two women were amazed to hear hoofbeats.
Wheeling in their saddles, at the same time whipping out their six shooters, that they might not be caught unawares in case the newcomers proved more raiders, the cowpunchers were surprised to see a man and a woman canter over the rise in the plains that led into the yard of the Double Cross home ranch.
At the sight of Mrs. Bowser with the rifle in her hands and the two horsemen with revolvers drawn, the newcomers drew rein, abruptly.
“What’s wrong, Sarah?” called the man, at the same time dropping his hand to his own shooting iron.
“Well, Charlie and Mary Harris, if I’m not glad to see you!” cried Mrs. Bowser, running out to meet the couple, whom she had recognized as friends of hers from the Centre.