BURT L. STANDISH Ultimate Collection: 24 Action Thrillers in One Volume (Illustrated) - Burt L. Standish

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the bowlders plunged the trio, just as a bullet whistled over Frank's head.

      Dropping on one knee behind a stone on which he could rest his elbow, our hero brought the butt of his Winchester to his shoulder, and began to work the weapon.

      Even then Frank was not quite ready to shoot straight at the breasts of human beings, and so his first five shots brought down three of the horses, throwing the band into confusion.

      Bart was more desperate, as his words indicated, for he half snarled:

      "Don't kill the poor horses! Shoot the human brutes!"

      Then he began firing, and, if his nerve had been as steady as Frank's, scarcely one of the six would have escaped. As it was, he quickly wounded two of them.

      This was a reception the men had not counted on. Those whose horses had not been shot made haste to rein about and dash away, one with a dangling arm, while the others leaped to the shelter of the rocks.

      "Now they have us cornered!" came fiercely from Bart's lips. "If you had not wasted your bullets, Frank, we would have the advantage now."

      "Don't you care," laughed Frank, lightly. "We are hotter company than they were looking for, and I rather fancy we'll be able to give them a jolly good racket."

      Frank was in a reckless mood. Danger ever seemed to affect him thus. A bullet tore his hat from his head, but he picked it up, laughing, as if it were all sport.

      For some minutes the boys and their enemies popped away at each other, and then, from the opposite direction along the ravine, came the sound of galloping horses.

      "Here come our friends!" cried Bart, joyfully. "We are all right now! Those chaps will have to take to their heels."

      Suddenly a sharp whistle rang through the ravine from above, and the party below answered in a similar manner.

      The boys looked at each other in astonishment.

      "Shield yourselves as far as possible in both directions," cried Frank. "If I am not mistaken, we have enemies above and below!"

      Crouching behind the rocks, they saw the second party dash into view—four in all. Three of them were men, but their leader was a girl, who wore a mask over her face.

      "There!" exclaimed Frank—"there is the queen of the counterfeiters!"

      CHAPTER XLVI.

       AFTER THE FIGHT.

       Table of Contents

      The masked girl seemed to have the eyes of an eagle, for she immediately located the trio behind the rocks. A wild cry broke from her lips, and then she caught the rein in her teeth, snatched out two revolvers, and charged straight down upon the boys and the girl they were defending, firing as she came.

      The men followed her.

      With hoarse shouts, the first party of pursuers joined in the charge, and the trio of defenders were between two fires.

      "Shoot to kill! Shoot to kill!" screamed Bart. "Do not waste bullets now! It will be fatal if you do."

      Only too well did Frank realize that he must seek human targets for his bullets. It was not the first time in his life that he had been compelled to do such a thing, but he always regretted the necessity, and did so only when forced to the last ditch.

      It is a very easy thing to sit down quietly and think or write of shooting a human being in self-defense; but such a thing is not easy for conscientious persons to do. When the time comes, they either shoot in desperate haste, before they can think much about it, or hold off as long as possible.

      Frank held off as long as possible, but now he realized it would not do to hesitate longer. Bart was shooting in one direction, and he began shooting in the other. Through the smoke that leaped from the muzzle of his rifle he saw one man fling up his hands and plunge forward on his face.

      Either the men were utterly reckless, or they had not believed the boys would offer much resistance, for they exposed themselves fearlessly and rushed fiercely on the rocks behind which the trio crouched. It is possible they fancied that by shooting recklessly among the rocks they could keep the lads quiet till the barrier was reached.

      This was a fatal mistake for some of them. The ones who were mounted came forward more swiftly, but some of them were toppled from the saddle, others were thrown into confusion, the horses were wounded and frightened, and the riders who could escape, reined about and made haste to do so.

      All but the masked girl!

      With the utmost reckless abandon, she charged right up to the rocks. Being a girl, neither of the boys had shot toward her, or her horse.

      Now, however, Bart Hodge rose to his feet, took good aim at the animal, and shot it dead.

      The creature fell, flinging the girl headlong.

      She struck solidly, and lay still, in a huddled mass upon the ground.

      "Hurrah!" cried Frank, seeing the enemy was repulsed. "I fancy they have had about enough of us."

      He hastened to replenish the magazine of his rifle.

      Bart's first thought, on seeing the fight was over, was of the girl they had been defending. He turned and found her safe where she had been placed behind the large bowlder, but she was still holding her hands over her ears, and her face was very pale.

      Frank sprang outside the rocks, caught up the other girl, and leaped back quickly, placing her gently on the ground.

      "I hope she is not harmed," he said, as he deftly removed the mask.

      The moment the girl's face was exposed a shout of amazement broke from the lips of both lads. They stared first at one girl and then at the other, looking bewildered.

      The girls were almost counterparts of each other!

      "They are doubles!" exclaimed Frank. "Taken separately, it would be impossible to tell one from the other."

      Then he turned on the girl they had been defending, stared straight into her face for a moment, and asked:

      "What is your name?"

      "Vida Melburn."

      "It is not Isa Isban?"

      "No, sir."

      "Did I not change two fifty-dollar bills for you on the Pacific Express, shortly after leaving Ogden?"

      "I never saw you till this morning."

      "That settles it!" cried Frank; "the other girl is Isa Isban, and she is queen of the counterfeiters. She was the one for whom I changed the money, and she completely fooled me by her innocent face and manner."

      "And I mistook her for Miss Melburn," said Bart. "Such a thing seems impossible, but it actually occurred."

      "But how Miss Melburn came to be here is what I cannot understand," asserted Frank.

      "I came up to Tahoe with my father, an uncle, and an aunt," said the girl, who was recovering from her terror. "My uncle and aunt live in Carson, and father and I were visiting them. We hired a sailboat of a big hermit who lives somewhere on the shore of the lake, and sailed over here, coming ashore to have a picnic dinner. The wind went down, and we could not get back. That evening I took a little stroll from camp, and I was suddenly seized from behind, nearly smothered in a blanket and carried away. I was held a captive in a cabin, far up on a high cliff. Back of the cabin was a cave through which the men reached the spot. Last night, or this morning, before daybreak, a man with a heavy dark mustache came to see me. I had not undressed, and he made me get up, so he could look me over. After some minutes, he cried, 'I swear she is handsomer than the queen!' Then he told me how he had seen me in Carson, and had mistaken me, at first, for some one else. How he found out his mistake, when he received a message from the other, who had been away to the east. How he vowed to know me better, and how, when

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