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Page 32
Peering out cautiously he saw that every man of the desert riders
was resting a careless hand on the butt of his revolver. At the
same time Hi observed something else in the opposite direction.
Grace Harlowe and Elfreda Briggs had stepped up close to the water
hole and each was standing with a hand on her hip.
The situation was resting on a hair trigger, and, even in the
tenseness of the moment, Hi Lang found himself keenly interested
in what he saw--the Overland Riders in action.
The leader of the newcomers sprang to his feet raging. Hippy
Wingate, now close to the man, pushed the flat of his hand against
the fellow's face.
"Get off my desert, you imitation rough-neck," invited Hippy
sweetly. In the same breath he added in a savage tone: "Keep your
hand away from that gun!" emphasizing his command by thrusting the
muzzle of his own revolver against the desert rider's stomach.
The visitor's back was toward his companions, so that they did not
get the full import of what was taking place, but they looked
their amazement when they saw their leader turn his back on Hippy.
They did not know that he was doing this in obedience to
Lieutenant Wingate's order, nor that the leader's revolver at that
moment was in Hippy's hand, Hippy having slipped it from its
holster while still pressing his own weapon against the man who
had ducked him.
"I told you to get off my desert," said Hippy, incisively. "I've
changed my mind. I'm going to kick you off!"
Lieutenant Wingate retreated a step, sprang clear of the ground,
and with a kick that had sent many a ball over the goal, he kicked
the desert leader into the water hole. Hi Lang was not so
considerate. As the fellow scrambled to his feet, Hi laid him flat
on his back with a blow between the eyes that instantly put the
fellow to sleep.
The battle between the two parties of desert travelers was on in a
second.
CHAPTER IX
PIRATES GET A HOT RECEPTION
The desert riders, who had been laughing over their leader's
downfall after Hippy jerked him from his pony, suddenly awakened
to a realization that the scene they had witnessed had ceased to
become a joke.
The rider nearest to the water hole whipped out his revolver and
fired, but the bullet went over Hippy's head for the very good
reason that, expecting this very thing, he had ducked.
Hippy fired in return, hit the pony, and the rider tumbled off as
the pony went down.
Hi Lang was out of the water hole in a twinkling.
"Keep your hands off your guns!" he shouted to the visitors,
drawing his own weapon.
A bullet went through his hat. Another spun him around as it
furrowed the fleshy part of his left arm, but the man who had
fired the second shot got his reward in the next second. A bullet
from Grace Harlowe's revolver went through his shoulder.
"Let them have it!" commanded Hi Lang. "They're out to do us!"
Two rifles, in the hands of Anne and Nora, banged from the tent in
which they, with Emma Dean, were crouching, waiting for orders to
take a hand in the battle. Bullets were flying rather thickly, but
the desert riders' ponies, under the touching up they were getting
from the revolvers of the defenders, were making careful shooting
impossible for their riders. The defenders had the advantage of a
steady footing under them, and they were shooting with extreme
care, trying their best not to kill any one, but endeavoring to
punish the attackers, and to keep themselves from getting killed.
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