When Mason arrived at the Ricker ranch in his racer there was an ominous silence about the place that confirmed his worst fears. He knew the girls must have arrived at the ranch ahead of him, but seeing no signs of life about the place he left his motor running and sprinted for the house.

Just as he threw the door open he heard a piercing scream followed by a revolver shot that appeared to come from the depths of the cellar. He drew his revolver and fired an answering shot. He dashed madly down the stairs leading to the cellar where he found himself in pitch darkness. Sounds of a struggle reached his ears as he blindly felt his way along the cellar. He cursed his stupidity for not thinking to have brought along a light of some kind.

The sounds of a struggle had abruptly ceased and a deathly silence prevailed. Too late!

He had traversed the entire length of the cellar and was about to start a search of the secret passage when he heard a number of shots fired in rapid succession.

Soon after, to his dismay, his engine stopped running. In desperation he raced back through the cellar and collided with a man who had just started to come down the cellar stairs.

A fierce battle ensued between them, Mason’s adversary striving to bring his revolver butt down on his head. The fellow wore a mask and after repeated attempts Mason succeeded in tearing it off.

The gunman was a stranger to him. Mason redoubled his efforts and backheeling the man, threw him downstairs. The delay had proved costly, however, and when he got out to his car he found the gasoline tank punctured with bullet holes. In the distance a party of horsemen with Josephine, Ethel and Percy in their midst were riding hard for the foothills.

“Oh, hell,” he swore to himself as he leaned dejectedly against his useless racer. “I’m some rescuer, I don’t think. Why didn’t Trent Burton’s message come through sooner. The news two weeks old and those cut-throats at large all this time. I think now that the four riders Gaylor and I saw that day were just a scouting party of Ricker’s. Yes, and the rifle shot that blew my tire out was some of their dirty work too. Lucky the bullet hit a tire instead of one of the girls, but it wasn’t their fault that it didn’t.”

The thought of the girls’ plight nerved him to swift action and he set out to search the premises for a horse. He wondered what had become of the two cowboys who were in charge of the ranch. His mind was bordering on a state of frenzy after he had searched the corral and failed to find a horse.

About a hundred yards from the corral lay the bunk-house. It was a large building and Mason noticed there was a small shed attached to the far corner of it. Something impelled him to look the building over, and it was well that he did so. Upon entering the bunk-house he found the two guards. They were bound and gagged and tied to one of the bed posts. Mason liberated them, after which he stood regarding them with scorn.

“Well, you’re a fine pair of huskies, I must say,” he said contemptuously. “Hell’s to pay about this ranch, and here I find you two cowboys trussed up like two fine turkeys. Both girls carried off by Ricker and his gang of cut-throats and no one here to stop them. How did it happen, anyway?” he wound up savagely.

Both cowboys had been spare hands at the Bar X ranch, and Mason felt that Bud had made a mistake in not placing more competent men in charge of the Ricker ranch. His own choice would have been the two fire eaters, Scotty Campbell and Red Sullivan.

“Don’t be too hard on us, boss,” one of the cowboys pleaded. “It happened this way. Bob, here, rode over to the Post for supplies right after I came in off the range. Just after he had left and got out of sight somebody sneaked up behind me and cracked me over the head. When I came to my senses I found Bob tied up alongside of me. I didn’t have a chance, pard, honest I didn’t.”

“I got served the same way,” the cowboy named Bob spoke up. “I met the girls and the young fellow at the Post, and Miss Josephine said they were coming on to the ranch. I left quite a spell ahead of them and got served the same as Jim here.”

“So it seems,” Mason said sarcastically. “You fellows can square yourself to a certain extent if you will dig me up a horse.”

“That’s easy,” Bob spoke up eagerly, “my horse is tied in the shed at the end of the bunk-house, and Jim’s horse is there too.”

“All right,” Mason answered curtly, “I’ll take one of them and when you get a chance, tow my machine to Trader’s Post and have the gasoline tank repaired. The tank is shot full of holes and I will have to depend on you cowboys to see that it is fixed and send the bill on to me at Bar X ranch. I expect some of Bud’s men will be here before long, and by the way, I knocked one of Ricker’s men down cellar. You might go and see if he’s there yet, and hand him over to Bud’s men when they come along.”

Quickly he looked the cowboys’ horses over and picking out the better one he set out rapidly for Bar X ranch. On the way he met a detachment of Bud’s men led by Big Joe Turner. They had been ordered to report at the Ricker ranch and would be joined by Bud the next day. Big Joe informed him that a general alarm had been sent out and that the Gaylor brothers had been notified. A fast rider had been dispatched to their ranch and they were expected at Bar X the next morning. Mason related all that had happened at the Ricker ranch and gave as his judgment that there were eight men in Ricker’s gang.

There was a general tightening of belts and a savage glitter in the men’s eyes as he told his story. Josephine was a popular idol with the men of Bar X and it would go hard with her captors if they should fall into these cowboys’ hands.

Mason bid them good luck and pressed on. It was late at night when he arrived at Bar X, but he immediately sought out Bud and they held a long consultation.

They planned to send out a detachment of cowboys the next morning and another one in the afternoon.

In all, there were to be three detachments of cowboys who were to relay each other in turn.

“What gets me,” Mason said in perplexity, “is why Trent Burton didn’t get word through to us sooner.”

“I forgot to tell you that I received another message from him while you was away,” Bud said with a look of wonder in his eyes. “He explained in this last message that the jail officials tried their best to locate him, but he was away on a case at the time. The message was brought to me by a rider just an hour after I received the first one. He sure is a wonder and is a strange man. Here, read this last message yourself.”

“Talking about me?” an amiable voice said over their shoulder.

Both men jumped to their feet in astonishment. They were sitting in a little room used as an office of the ranch house.

“For God’s sake, Trent Burton!” Bud stared at him.

“How did you get here?”

“Why, it was very simple, I assure you,” the strange man answered blandly. “The door was partly open and I merely walked in. I repeat, were you talking about me?”

“We sure were,” Mason answered. He had recovered in a measure from his astonishment.

“Well, you know the old saying, speak of the devil and you hear his wings.”

“You must have wings at that,” Bud retorted; “what I want to know is how you arrived at this ranch so soon after wiring me?”

“First part, special train; second part, fast automobile. Fast automobile is outside this minute. Now that I have cleared myself, what has my estimable friend Ricker been doing since he broke loose? I see where I have all my work to do over again.”

Briefly they told him of the counterfeiter’s latest outrage, and all three sat up till a late hour perfecting plans for the morrow.

There was little sleep for Mason that night, and the morning found him worn and haggard. Trent Burton had taken absolute charge and already one group of fighting men had left the ranch to join Big Joe Turner at the Ricker ranch. Mason wanted to leave with them, but the Marshal wouldn’t listen to his pleading.

“Stick with me, man, and brace up,” he said kindly. “I want all the brainy men with me. There is still another outfit to go before we start, and in our group will be such men as Bud, fire-eating Scotty, Red, Tex, Buck Miller and yourself. The Gaylor ranch has sent over ten men and Bruce Gaylor is coming with the rest. We will need all the men we can get to beat the mountains and surround the outlaws.”

Mason was silently turning the events of the past twenty-four hours over in his mind.

“This is going to be a delicate mission,” the Marshal continued, “and at the least sign of a slip-up on our part, that beast will butcher those girls. Ricker is a desperate man and I am waiting for him to show his hand. He knows that I will be sent after him, and the fact that he has the girls and Percy in his power forces me to move with caution. I have a suspicion that he will try to get word through to us as to his demands. That is the reason why I am in no hurry to take to the mountains, and I want you to be here when that word comes. Rest content that the girls will be safe, for I am convinced that his first demand will be for money.”

An hour later the next section left in charge of the Gaylor brothers. When noon came, Mason was almost going mad at his inaction. He was electrified five minutes later when Scotty came to the house with news that a dispatch rider was waiting for him at the bunk-house. He hastened down and the message was placed in his hands. It was from Josephine and was written at the command of Ricker. The demand was for money with a warning not to try to find the girls under penalty of their death. If they agreed to pay over the amount of money demanded in the dispatch, Ricker would see that the prisoners were set free.

He stipulated in the message that they would be given forty-eight hours to decide, and at the expiration of that time, if a messenger did not arrive at Duke Williams’ place at Smoky Point, the prisoners would be killed.

It closed with a warning to Mason and Bud that any attempt to capture Ricker’s agent at Duke Williams’ hotel would result in the girls’ death.

The message was written in Josephine’s own handwriting.

“Where did you get this message?” Mason asked, looking sharply at the rider.

“It was given me at the station by a stranger and I was paid well to deliver it to you,” the rider answered simply.

“There will be no answer,” Mason said shortly, dismissing him.

He kept turning the envelope over in his hand. On one corner there was drawn the picture of a butterfly, and it puzzled him. Hunting up the Marshal he turned the message over to him.

The latter read it, then gave a long whistle.

“So, he has shown his hand at last,” was his comment; “whew! a cool million he wants. Modest in his demands, isn’t he?”

“What puzzles me,” Mason replied, “is what that butterfly means on the corner of the envelope.”

The Marshal looked it over carefully.

“Just merely the whim of a girl,” he said at length.

“I don’t believe it,” Mason protested warmly. “Josephine drew that picture on there for a purpose, and I would stake my life on it.”

“There may be a reason for the picture at that,” the Marshal replied thoughtfully; “well, anyway, the counterfeiter has shown his hand, and now I can work with light ahead.”

The Marshal’s forces were to start within an hour.

Mason with Red Sullivan and Scotty were looking over their guns at the bunk-house.

Tex, a short distance away from them, was watching an object in the sky. Finally he called Red over to where he stood, and Red in turn called Mason over to them.

“Shure, Jack, and isn’t that a devil of a big bird?” the Irishman asked, pointing to the sky.

Mason looked up and stared at the object which was looming up larger to their vision each minute.

“That’s an airplane,” he said at last in wonderment.

“Holy Saints!” Red cried, crossing himself, “and may the devil fly away with it!”

Mason could plainly hear the humming of the motor now, and he took off his hat and waved it excitedly.

“Tex, call Trent Burton to come here at once,” he said, a glad ring to his voice. “Red, I’ll bet your old red head, that’s my friend Roy Purvis the aviator, from New York.”

The airplane came down in graceful spirals and made a landing a short distance from the corral. Mason rushed over and the aviator offered him a languid hand which Mason shook heartily.

“Roy, you’re just the man I want to see,” he cried, “you dropped out of the sky just in time.”

“I’ll say I did, I was all out of gasoline, you know,” the aviator answered, leaning languidly back in his seat gazing interestedly at the cowboys who stood looking him and the airplane over in open-mouthed wonder.

“Am I welcome?” Roy questioned, turning his attention again to Mason.

“Certainly you’re welcome. What makes you think you wouldn’t be welcome to Bar X ranch?” Mason demanded.

“Well, be a good fellow and help unstrap me from this confounded seat, and when we get to the house I’ll tell you,” he answered whimsically.

Mason called one of the cowboys over to assist him. In a small compartment back of the aviator’s seat was his luggage. It consisted of four suitcases and a black object resembling a tank about the size of a suitcase. Roy took especial charge of this black tank.

“Why all these warlike preparations?” he queried, noticing the bristling guns of the cowboys. “Looks like I had dropped into a fighting man’s country for fair.”

“I’ll explain the whole business to you when we get to the house and you have had some refreshments,” Mason answered.

“Hang the refreshments,” Roy growled, with another puzzled look at the cowboys with their revolvers and saddle guns.

At the house, after having been introduced all around, he surprised Mason by asking him if there was a dark room in the house.

“No,” the latter answered with a blank look, “but I think we could rig you up one.”

“Friends,” the aviator said with a look into their anxious faces, “I can see that you are in some kind of trouble, and from a hint that my friend Mason dropped, I think I can help you out. Just rig me up that dark room, Jack, and I will show you something that will surprise you.”

“There is a small closet in my room and you can use it,” Mason said quickly.

Taking the mysterious black tank with him the aviator left them and was in the room for a half hour. When he came out he held a number of films in his hands.

“Before I join these films together,” he said to his mystified audience, “I want to tell you of a little incident that happened to me this morning. Starting from a town about a hundred miles from here, and depending entirely on my compass, for I had no idea where the Bar X ranch lay, I crossed the railroad track at a point fifty miles below here.

“If you remember, there was a slight mist this morning, making it difficult to distinguish objects unless I flew quite low. Knowing I had a good supply of gasoline I opened the engine up wide and flew at a high altitude and drifted aimlessly in the hope that the mist would soon clear away.

“My wish was soon granted, but, to my surprise, I found myself flying over your wonderful mountains and hopelessly lost. Bringing the airplane around, I determined to cruise in the opposite direction.

“Flying at a lower altitude, I was surprised to see a group of men directly under me. The place was an ideal spot to land, and shutting off the engine I began to make spirals, at the same time taking this series of films you see in my hand.

“One of the men commenced to fire a revolver at me, and thinking it wouldn’t be healthy to land among them, I started my engine. After much difficulty, I succeeded in reaching this ranch. I didn’t know what ranch it was, but for once I was lucky.”

The aviator joined the films together and held them out to their startled eyes. It was a complete picture of the counterfeiter’s retreat in the mountains and showed the two girl prisoners!

“This is wonderful,” the Marshal exclaimed. “Bud, do you think you have a man that can locate this place?”

“I know right where it is,” Bud replied, breathing heavily. “It is dead easy to find, but hard to get at. It can be taken all right, but if we force the position, they are sure to kill the girls.”

Mason was making a close examination of the films.

A semicircle of rock showed plainly, and as near as he could judge, about two hundred yards back from this semicircle there was a flat table rock, backed by a cliff that rose hundreds of feet in the air.

A cabin, showing the two girls outside looking up at the sky, was plainly visible.

Mason called Bud over to him.

“Bud, you say you know where this place is?” he questioned him.

The latter nodded.

“And the only point of attack is this semicircle of rock,” Mason continued, “and if we rush that point there is nothing to prevent Ricker from killing the girls before we could get to them.”

“That’s just the way I figure it out,” Bud agreed.

“Well, I have a plan that has a chance of success,” Mason said grimly. “If we should pay those cutthroats the money they demand, we are not sure they will keep their word about delivering the prisoners safely to us. We have just got to go in and get them.

“My plan is to dynamite this semicircle of rock, then rush in and get the girls before Ricker’s men can recover from their surprise. They are sure to guard that point every minute. Let me have Scotty to draw their fire while I lay the blasting charge. They know what a reckless daredevil Scotty is and as I will keep out of sight they will think he is attacking them single-handed, and they will all be busy trying to pick him off. When the blasting charge goes off you can rush the position and capture them before they recover from their surprise.”

“That’s a good plan, lad,” the Marshal said with an approving glance at him. “We will arrange to arrive at their mountain retreat at five o’clock tomorrow morning. It won’t do to make the attack at night, for if anything went wrong they could kill the prisoners before we knew it. I’ll send Jean Barry to the Ricker ranch with my automobile, and have Big Joe get all the men together. Our party will join them there in time to reach the counterfeiter’s stronghold by five o’clock to-morrow morning.”

“Jack, have the cowboys take their horses along with them to the ranch, and I will take you there in my airplane,” Roy cut in.

Mason looked at his watch.

“That will be fine,” he said. “It is just one P.M. and I won’t have to start from here until about five o’clock if I go by airplane. We are all to meet at the Ricker ranch and make a start from there some time during the night. The Marshal and Bud have the trip timed so we will reach the counterfeiter’s stronghold early in the morning and take them by surprise.”

Mason and Roy laid a plan for the latter to be in the vicinity of the mountain retreat, and after Mason had set off the explosive charge and a successful rescue was accomplished, Roy was to carry the glad news by airplane to the girls’ anxious parents.

They put in some of the time going over the airplane and getting it in order. The Marshal and Bud had left with the last cowboys, and at five o’clock Mason and Roy started their flight. In a short time they had overtaken and passed the Marshal’s riders.

Arriving at the Ricker ranch they made a safe landing and immediately turned in to get a little rest.

Mason’s sleep was fitful, and he was glad when aroused by the Marshal and told that the hour had struck.

The dynamite with wire and a battery was given to him, and Scotty was carefully rehearsed in the part he was to play. The moon was shining as the grim riders formed and set out rapidly for the foothills. Sunrise found them concealed at the base of the outlaws’ stronghold.

Mason and Scotty began their perilous climb to the semicircle of rock. It was thought to be utterly impossible to approach closer than a hundred yards to the stronghold without being challenged by the guards. It was the brave Scot’s duty to open fire the minute he was challenged and attract the outlaws’ attention while Mason was to crawl to a position where he could place the charge of dynamite to the best advantage.

When the charge was planted he was to set it off, while the Marshal was to hurl his men on the outlaws before they could recover from their surprise.

They had climbed to within seventy-five yards of the strongly guarded point, when a sharp command to halt rang out. Scotty recklessly exposed himself to view for an instant and received a bullet through the crown of his hat. Flattening his body against the rocks, he opened a hot fire in reply. Mason continued to crawl ahead fast, but cautiously, working slightly around to the right. The outlaws sent a hail of bullets down past Scotty, which the Scot returned with interest, still keeping up his pretense of attack.

Mason worked up so close that he could see the outlaws answering Scotty’s shots with their rifles. He carefully placed the dynamite charge and dropped swiftly down the ledge with wire and battery. At a safe distance from the deadly charge he turned the switch of the battery. A tremendous explosion followed.

Amid falling rocks, Scotty came racing over to him, and together they scrambled up the cliff and into the outlaws’ stronghold.

The outlaws were wild with excitement and Jim Haley was trying to rally them when a bullet from Scotty’s gun put him out of action.

Mason and Scotty dropped down behind a rock just as a volley of bullets whistled over their heads.

Ricker rallied his men and firing rapidly he gave a yell of defiance. Seeing that he had but two men behind the rock to deal with, he called to his men and they started to rush in upon them.

Pieces of rock and dirt were filling the eyes of Mason and Scotty as they crouched behind the rock and their position was getting perilous as they couldn’t return the fire without exposing themselves.

As the outlaws charged across the open, a bullet caught Ricker in the side and he reeled, his gun in the air.

Bud and Trent Burton were in the fight and the latter had cut loose with his deadly automatics!

Sorely wounded, the counterfeiter turned and bringing his gun down, emptied it point blank at his hated foe. Trent Burton’s guns were trained on him and were spitting a steady stream of lead.

The counterfeiter’s knees began to sag and his shots went wild. Josephine and Ethel stood at the cabin door, their faces white with fear.

Overhead, Roy’s airplane motor was humming in harmony with the cracking of the guns. Mason stood up from behind the rock as he saw the halfbreed Mexican start with a yell toward the girls’ cabin.

Mason shouted a warning to the girls and turned his smoking gun on the halfbreed. At the third shot the Mexican fell, and Mason rushed over and clasped his sister in his arms.

When the fight was over, Percy was found tied securely in the outlaws’ cabin.

Ricker was dying and Jim Haley and Nick Cover were severely wounded. The Mexican was brought into the outlaws’ cabin and breathed his last while Trent Burton was examining his wound.

The Marshal arranged to have Mason and Bud leave at once with the girls, and when they arrived at the Ricker ranch, Mason was to take the Marshal’s automobile and drive them to Bar X ranch.

“Some round-up,” the Marshal observed to Bud as they parted. “I wanted to take Ricker alive, but he was trying to get me, so it was his life or mine.”

“Yes, and I had to pin Spot Wells just as he was drawing a bead on Scotty,” Bud replied regretfully.