"The ill.u.s.trious Hawkes family," said Billie to herself. "Well-known in the West. I think the most dangerous member of that family had better be locked up."

The first stars were just coming into view when Billie drew up in front of Steptoe Lodge, but in all that big ranch house only two human beings were there to greet her-Miss Helen Campbell and the Chinese cook.

Seizing a trumpet made of a cow's horn the Chinaman rushed to the top of the house and blew half a dozen blasts that resounded over the prairie like the call of the wild huntsman, and in fifteen minutes from every direction horses and ponies bearing cowboy riders were dashing across the plains toward the Lodge. But far more amazing to Billie was the sight of her own red Comet hastening eagerly toward her, and at the wheel sat Mary, clever little pupil that she was, and in the back seat were Elinor and Nancy crying and calling and waving their handkerchiefs all at once.

Miss Campbell had been completely prostrated. She was in bed with a wet towel around her head and her eyes were red with weeping. Billie also was put to bed and fed by her devoted friends with hot soup and dry toast. She was more exhausted than she cared to admit, and it was Hot Air Sue, with her talent for inexhaustible conversation, who made explanations to the household of Steptoe Lodge.

The next morning two men arrived at the Lodge. They bore a warrant for the arrest of one, Buckthorne Hawkes, automobile thief. But Buckthorne Hawkes was not to be found. However, they confiscated the gray racing car, and the girls knew that Peter Van Vechten was once more in possession of his property.

CHAPTER XIV.-ON THE ROAD AGAIN.

The Comet had now a guide. No more excursions into the wilderness of the unknown for him. Timidly and cautiously he crept along as close to the tracks of the Union Pacific Railroad as the highway permitted, for they were about to go through the wild rugged country where rise the snow-capped ranges of the Rocky Mountains.

With a sigh of relief they said good-by to Steptoe Lodge.

"It was interesting, but uncomfortable," Miss Campbell had said. For a whole day Billie's experience had quite shaken Miss Campbell's enthusiasm in the journey. It was not a permanent distaste, however.

Having remained quietly in West Haven for a quarter of a century, the little woman was now possessed with a thirst for travel. She had developed into a high-toned Gypsy with a disposition to perpetual wandering.

The partings at Steptoe Lodge had some of them been quite moving; but not Rosina's, who had bade them a chilly farewell. Her nature was a stormy one, a strange mixture of hot and cold, anger and humility, courage and fear.

"I don't know whom she's angriest with," Billie had observed, "our ex-teacher, Maria, for putting her brother up to such lawless tricks or us because we were the victims."

"I hope they catch him," said Miss Campbell firmly. "I do, indeed, and shut him up in prison for a long, long time. Such dangerous characters ought not to be allowed to run at large."

"They'll catch him if Brek Steptoe has any influence," put in Nancy.

"Barney told me his cousin was never going to put up with Hawkeseye again. He had stood all he intended. Rosina was now to choose between them."

"What is that you're looking at, Nancy?" demanded Elinor, changing the subject.

Nancy blushed and laughed.

"A parting gift from Jim," she replied.

Poor Jim had ridden for some miles beside the Comet and they had gone slowly in order to enjoy his company. Then, with a last hand-shake all around and a heart-breaking sigh, he stopped in the middle of the road, his sombrero in one hand and his horse's reins in the other. And there he stood as still as a statue until the motor car was reduced to a small scarlet dot on the horizon. When he had shaken hands with Nancy, he thrust a small package into her lap. There were tears in Nancy's eyes when she looked at the contents of the package, although her laugh rang out as merrily as her friends' as she drew forth the hind foot of a jack rabbit mounted on a plaited loop of horsehair.

"Does he expect me to wear this thing around my neck," she cried dangling the clumsy paw between her small thumb and forefinger.

"There's a note," said Mary, leaning over Nancy's shoulder.

Nancy smiled again as she read the note, first to herself and then out loud:

"Dear Miss Nancy:

"I killed the rabbit in an Indian burying ground in the dark of the moon. The hair came from my horse's tail. He's a fine little animal, my horse. I love him best in the world next to-something else I like better. I wish it were a gold rabbit's foot set in diamonds, but it's a long ways here from a jewelry store, and this is the best I can do. I've had it a long time, and it's brought me good luck at last, because I've met you. I hope it will bring you luck. Good-by.

It's the hardest good-by I ever had to say. If I ever strike a gold mine I'm coming East. Good-by again.

"Jim."

"P. S.-Don't forget me."

"Poor, lonely soul!" exclaimed Miss Campbell, wiping the moisture from her eyes. "Where are his people, I wonder?"

"He hasn't any," answered Nancy. "His father was a miner and he died when Jim was a little boy. He's worked in lumber camps and lived around like this all his life. I think he's very gentlemanly, considering. He says Tony has taught him a lot. Jim is only eighteen, you know, although he looks much older."

Deep down in her heart Miss Campbell made a resolution that she would like to do something very nice for Jim.

They slept that night at Cheyenne, which had once been a rude little frontier town, and was now a handsome city, and the next day pushed on toward Laramie. After riding hundreds of miles over level prairie grounds, the eyes become accustomed to wide stretches of landscape and the mind, too, takes a broader and more generous outlook on life. What is called "the peace of the plains" seems to brood over the traveler.

Our five motorists were filled with this quietude as they went Westward.

All the difficulties of the trip and past dangers were forgotten. They were as peaceful as holy pilgrims journeying toward Mecca. At last, late in the afternoon, Billie suddenly stopped the car and pointed silently toward the setting sun. She had caught her first glimpse of the Rocky Mountains.

Far in the distance they lay, the first vague misty opalescent peaks of the great chain which divides the West into countries. They were only the earliest indications of the wild and beautiful scenery of Wyoming through which they were about to pa.s.s.

"And after Wyoming comes Utah," observed Mary Price, thinking aloud.

"And in Utah comes Evelyn," called Billie.

The girls thrilled at the thought of Evelyn. What might not have happened to her since she had been compelled to return to Utah.

"Perhaps her father has made her marry a Mormon," suggested Mary in an awed tone of voice.

"Or shut her in a dungeon," pursued Nancy, who had a vague idea such things might take place in this strange city.

"It's like the story of the wicked king and the princess," here put in Elinor, her thoughts running on royal blood as usual.

The girls smiled, but the notion was a disquieting one at any rate and Billie began silently to calculate how long it would take before they could reach Salt Lake City, weather and Comet permitting.

"I wish-I wish--" she began, but the whistle of a locomotive interrupted her.

"It's the express," exclaimed one of the girls.

"It's going to stop."

"But there's no station."

"A man is flagging it, don't you see. It's the track walker, I suppose.

Perhaps something is the matter ahead."

A very tall man with a lean figure, broad shoulders and a flopping sombrero hat was, in fact, waving a red flag in front of the Western express, which slowed up and presently, almost opposite the motor car, came to a full stop. The Comet also paused and waited to see what was the trouble.

The engine was too far in front to hear the conversation between the engineer, who now thrust his head out of the window, and the individual with the flag. But what happened next was exceedingly strange. The flagman, casting aside his signal, followed the engineer down the track to the first coach, which was the baggage car, and presently emerged on the platform leading to the next coach.

And now the engineer was not alone. Several baggage men and train officials had joined him, and they walked with their arms held up in the air. So absorbed was the motor party with the strange actions of the train people that they failed at the moment to notice what the lean individual was carrying in his hand. Neither could they tell what was taking place in the first pa.s.senger coach, but as the train officials were herded across the platform, still with arms uplifted, they suddenly became aware that the pockets in their coats, trousers and waistcoats were turned wrong side out, and that the man who was driving them in front of him like a herd of cattle held a pistol in his right hand, on the barrel of which the sun shone brilliantly.

"Billie, Billie, go on as fast as you can go, they are train robbers,"

whispered Miss Campbell hoa.r.s.ely, almost bereft of her voice from fright.