CHAPTER XXV

"ALL'S WELL!"

What was taking place down below, Rosemary and Floyd could only guess at. But that the rescuers were taking advantage of everything possible was evident from the occasional hits they made among the Yaquis. More than one was killed and several wounded as they fired over the top of the wall, or through loopholes amid the rocks.

Then, soon after the determination at which Rosemary had arrived, there came a more violent fusillade than any that had preceded. In this several Indians were forced to retire because of serious wounds. Then the firing died away.

Though the captive lad and his sister did not know it, this sudden cessation in the firing of the attackers was due to an order of the commander of the troopers. The captain was, also, nominally in command of the boy ranchers and their friends.

"There is too much indiscriminate firing," decided Captain Marshall.

"We haven't an unlimited supply of ammunition. We've got to go a bit slow. No telling how long we may have to camp on the trail of these imps."

It was a wise determination as they all agreed, and the word went up and down the line of attackers to be sparing of powder and lead. This is what caused the troopers and cowboys suddenly to cease firing, following a desperate fusillade which they hoped would turn the tide of battle in their favor, but it had not done so.

"We must size the situation up," decided the captain. "Find out just how many more rounds we have left--counting also the supply of our friends from Diamond X," he ordered an officer.

And the taking stock of the situation was soon under way. That the Yaquis were as glad of the respite, as were our friends, need not be doubted.

Advantage was taken of the lull to look after the wounded, and to bring water to the fighting men, for they were sorely in need of drinks. And warm as the water was, it seemed the best that had ever trickled down their throats.

Back in their prison, Rosemary and Floyd noted the sudden silence that followed the brisk firing. Brother and sister looked at each other, and there was fear in their faces.

"Do you suppose that means they have quit?" asked the girl.

"Who?" her brother wanted to know.

"The ones who are out there trying to help us--cowboys from our uncle's ranch, I hope."

"I hope so, too, and I hope they haven't had to quit," spoke Floyd.

"But we've got to go on with what we planned now. I'm for it as much as you are, Rosemary. Something has to be done! Are you sure you won't weaken at the last minute, and cave in?"

"Did you ever know me to do a thing like that?" she asked with flashing eyes.

"No, I never did."

"Well, I'm not going to start now! Don't worry, Floyd. Somehow I feel sure that this will pull us through! I thought of it in the night--perhaps I dreamed it--and I have a feeling that it is going to work out all right. Don't be afraid. Let's try it with all our might!

Are you ready?"

"As ready as I ever shall be," was the grim answer. "But if you're playing a 'hunch,' so to speak, that's different. You always were lucky!"

He laughed grimly, and Rosemary joined in. It was the first time they had laughed since being taken captives.

As her brother had said, Rosemary was "lucky."

For a moment brother and sister looked about them. They must act soon, and, after all, the consequences could not be much worse than those which continually were hanging over them.

"Whenever you're ready--give the word!" whispered Floyd.

"Now!" suddenly called Rosemary to her brother.

"Come on!" he echoed.

Together they rushed from the cave, straight toward the band of Indians lined up, with their backs toward them, along the wall of the improvised fort.

What Rosemary said she never really knew. It was a burst of wild, hysterical yelling, such as girls and women alone are capable of. And as she screamed and ran she pointed back toward the cave.

As for Floyd he declared that what he yelled was something like:

"They're coming! They're coming! They're attacking in the rear!"

To this he added some improvised warwhoops of his own devising, and some football yells, for he had been a cheer leader at one time for his college team.

Whatever was said little mattered. It was the character of the shouting of the desperate youth and maiden, and their actions that counted. Coming as Rosemary's ruse did, after the hardest firing yet on the part of the attackers, it rather got on the nerves of the Yaquis if they had such organs, which is doubtful.

To every one of them it appeared, as Rosemary and Floyd intended it should, that an attack from the rear was about to take place. As Rosemary had guessed, the Indians knew no more about the cave than she did. They had hastily examined it and decided there was no rear entrance or exit, as the case might be. But they might have overlooked some hidden pa.s.sage, and this is what all of them evidently thought had been done.

At any rate, as Rosemary and Floyd rushed out, yelling almost like Indians themselves, a panic started among the Yaquis. They saw themselves caught between two fires, with no retreat possible.

With whoops of despair some threw themselves over the cliff. Others rushed into the cave, while some climbed up the rocky walls at either side. A few remained, firing down at the attackers below.

Rosemary's yells, and those of her brother, carried to the soldiers and cowboys. At first they thought a sally was about to take place.

But when they saw some Indians come over the wall, one luckless imp slipping and falling to his death, some idea of what was taking place became manifest to Captain Marshall.

"They're in a panic!" he cried. "Something has frightened 'em! Come on, men!"

He led a rush forward, just as Rosemary appeared at the top of the wall, waving her neck handkerchief in a frenzied signal.

"There she is! Rosemary!" cried Bud, not exactly recognizing his cousin, but guessing the girl could be none other.

The rush of the attackers, together with the panic that had run through the ranks of the Indians like wildfire, was all that was needed to turn the scale. The Yaquis, with howls of fear, not knowing what it was all about, threw down their guns and sought for means of escape.

Mike, the leader, seemed dazed at the suddenness of it all. But he gathered his wits together and, seeing Rosemary at the wall, waving to the soldiers and cowboys below, the desperate Yaquis sprang toward her.

But Floyd was watching his sister. The lad picked up a revolver from where it had fallen as its owner retreated and fired point blank at Mike. The ruffian crumpled up and went down in a heap, as Rosemary herself, unable to stand the strain longer, sank down half fainting.

Her ruse had succeeded. The Yaquis were on the run.

A few minutes later the place was filled with soldiers and cowboys who made prisoners of such of the renegades as were left alive--and these were not many, though they included Mike, who had only been wounded by Floyd.

"Oh, Bud! I'm so glad! So glad!" murmured Rosemary, as her cousin put his arm around her--only one arm for the other was still sore.

"So'm I!" murmured Bud. "This is another cousin--Nort," and he nodded toward his boy rancher companion. "And there's a third one down there--d.i.c.k--but he's hurt!"

"Badly?"

"Oh, no, just a piece of lead through his arm. He'll be all right in a few days. But say, Rosemary, what did you and Floyd do to turn the tables so quickly?"