“Somebody's shootin' up the ranch,” he volunteered. “Wonder who it could be.”
“Suppose it is your friend and general?” asked the girl.
Billy made no reply. They reached the river and as Billy knew not where the fords lay he plunged in at the point at which the water first barred their progress and dragging the girl after him, plowed bull-like for the opposite shore. Where the water was above his depth he swam while Barbara clung to his shoulders. Thus they made the passage quickly and safely.
Billy stopped long enough to shake the water out of his carbine, which the girl had carried across, and then forged ahead toward the ranchhouse from which the sounds of battle came now in increased volume.
And at the ranchhouse “hell was popping.” The moment Bridge realized that some of the attack
