“Come and help me,” she ordered.
The Chinaman came unwillingly. They found her saddle but he only gazed at it in a stolid sort of fashion.
“No can fix,” he said. “Missee no can ride. Better go back bed.”
Lenora pushed him on one side. With a great effort she managed to reach her place in the saddle. Then she turned and, with her face to the depot, galloped away. The pain was excruciating. She could only keep herself in the saddle with an effort. Yet all the time that one sentence was ringing in her mind—“Tongues of flame!” She kept looking around anxiously. Suddenly the road dropped from a little decline. She was conscious of a wave of heat. In the distance she could see the smoke rolling across the open. She touched her horse with the quirt. The spot which she must pass to keep on the track to the depot was scarcely a hundred yards ahead, but already the fire seemed to be running like quicksilver across the ground licking up the dry greasewood with indeed a flaming tongue. She glanced once behind, warned by the heat. The fire was closing in upon her. A puff of smoke suddenly enveloped her. She coughed. Her head began to swim and a fit of giddiness assailed her. She rocked in her saddle and the pony came to a sudden standstill, faced by the mass of rolling smoke and flame.
“Sanford!” Lenora cried. “Save me!”
The pony reared. She slipped from the saddle and fell across the track.
CHAPTER XV
”A BOLT FROM THE BLUE”
1.
There was a peculiar, almost a foreboding silence about the camp that morning when Laura returned from her early ride. The only living person to be seen was the Chinaman, sitting on a stool in front of the wagon, with a dish of potatoes between his knees.
“Say, where’s every one?” Laura sung out, after she had looked into Lenora’s tent and found it empty.
The Chinaman continued to peel potatoes. He took no notice of the question. Laura touched her horse with the whip and cantered over to his side. At the last moment the animal swerved a little. The Chinaman, trying to draw back hastily, let the bowl slip between his knees. He gazed at the broken pieces of the dish in dismay.
“Never mind your silly potatoes!” Laura exclaimed. “Tell me where every one’s gone to, can’t you?”
The Chinaman looked up at her malevolently. He rose and made a stealthy movement forward. Laura backed her horse. The purpose which had gleamed for a moment in the man’s narrowed eyes seemed to fade away.
“All gone,” he announced. “Cowboy gone workee. Missee gone hurry up find Mr. Quest.”
Laura hesitated, puzzled. Just then the Professor came cantering in with a bundle of grass in his hand. He glanced down at the Chinaman.
“Good morning, Miss Laura!” he said. “You don’t seem to be getting on with our friend here,” he added in an undertone. “If you would permit me to offer you just a word of advice, it really doesn’t pay to annoy these Chinese too much. They never forget. I didn’t like the way that fellow was looking at you. I was watching him all the way from the rise there.”
“Pshaw!” she answered. “Who cares what a Chink thinks! The fellow’s an idiot. I’m worried, Professor. Lenora’s gone out after Mr. Quest and the Inspector. She wasn’t fit to ride a horse. I can’t make out why she’s attempted it.”
The Professor unslung some field-glasses from his shoulder and gazed steadily southward.
“It is just possible,” he said softly, “that she may have received a warning of that.”
He pointed with his forefinger, and Laura peered forward. Something which seemed to be just a faint cloud hung over the horizon. The Professor handed her his glasses.
“Why, it’s a fire!” she cried.
The Professor nodded.
“Just a prairie fire,” he replied,—“very dangerous, though, these dry seasons. The flames move so quickly that if you happen to be in a certain position you might easily get cut off.”
Laura turned her horse round.
“Come on, Professor!” she exclaimed. “That’s what it is. Lenora’s gone to try and warn the others.”
“She is a very brave young lady,” the Professor declared, as he touched his pony with the spurs. “All the same, Miss Laura, you take my advice and leave that Chinaman alone.”
They rode to the very edge of the tract of country which was temporarily enveloped with smoke and flame. Here they pulled in their horses, and the Professor looked thoughtfully through his field-glasses.
“The road straight on is the ordinary way to the depot,” he said, “but, as you can see, at the bend there it is becoming almost impassable. The thing is, what did Lenora do? When she got as far as this, she must have seen that further progress was dangerous.”
Laura gave a little cry and pointed with her riding-whip. About twenty yards further on, by the side of the road, was a small white object. She cantered on, swung herself from her horse and picked it up.
“Lenora’s handkerchief!” she cried.
The Professor waved his arm westward.
“Here come Quest and the Inspector. They are making a circuit to avoid the fire. The cowboy with them must have shown them the way. We’d better hurry up and find out if they’ve seen anything of Miss Lenora.”
They galloped across the rough country towards the little party, who were now clearly in sight.
“Lenora isn’t with them,” Laura declared anxiously, “and look—what’s that?”
From the centre of one of the burning patches they saw a riderless horse gallop out, stop for a moment with his head almost between its fore-legs, shake himself furiously, and gallop blindly on again.
“It’s Lenora’s horse!” Laura cried. “She must have been thrown. Come!”
Laura would have turned her horse, but the Professor checked her.
“Let us wait for Quest,” he advised. “They are close here.”
The cowboy, riding a little behind the two others, had unlimbered his lariat, and, while they watched, swung it over his head and secured the runaway. Quest galloped up to where Laura and the Professor were waving frantically.
“Say, that’s some fire!” Quest exclaimed. “Did you people come out to see it?”
“No, we came to find Lenora!” Laura answered breathlessly. “That’s her horse. She started to meet you. She must be somewhere—”
“Lenora?” Quest interrupted fiercely. “What do you mean?”
“When I got back to the camp,” Laura continued rapidly, “there wasn’t a soul there except the Chinaman. He told me that Lenora had ridden off a few minutes before to find you. We came to look for her. We found her handkerchief on the road there, and that’s her horse.”
Quest did not wait for another word. He jumped a rough bush of scrub on the right-hand side, galloped over the ground, which was already hot with the coming fire, and followed along down the road by which Lenora had passed. When he came to the first bend, he could hear the roar of flames in the trees. A volume of smoke almost blinded him; his horse became wholly unmanageable. He slipped from the saddle and ran on, staggering from right to left like