Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1911)

HOW MARY MET THE PUNCHERS. 57 til, with a deafening yell, the cowboys hurled them forward over the heads of the drunken red-skins, just as they had overtaken their supposed victim and angrily torn the dummy into shreds. A glance into the muzzle of Bill's six shooter, and Three Moon quickly informed him where Mary and Sir Percy were supposed to be in hiding. Poor Mary! She isn't defiant now. She is crying her heart out as she cowers alone by the deserted camp, trembling lest at any moment the Indians return and find her there alone. For her escort is gone. Going to get help, he had told her, and then he had hastily sprung upon the remaining pony and rode off down the trail, leaving her horseless, and defenseless except for a revolver. She had never used a revolver in her life. And, what perhaps was most serious of all, at least to her cultured mind, she was without her skirt and cap. "Oh, how I hate him — I despise him, the coward!" cried the girl, angrily. Then came the sound of hoof beats. She sprang to her feet. The picture which met her eyes would have been humorous had the previous experiences been less serious. There they all were, Lengthy and Charlie and Dickenson and Bill, coming swiftly and directly toward her, waving, on a stick as a flag of truce — her skirt ! "Halt !" Mary's pistol is leveled straight at the oncoming punchers. In obedience to the sharp command, the sturdy little bronchos rear back on their haunches as their riders bring them to a sudden standstill. Charlie was heard to say afterwards, "She got the drop on us first and we couldn't do anything else. A girl who can handle a gun like that is just going to waste, shut up in a boarding school." "My skirt — bring me my skirt or — I'll shoot !" demanded Mary. She did not remember at the time that the pistol was not loaded. She only knew that she wasnot dressed for company. As the rescuing party conferred together, and Bill seemed to be writing something on the side of a rock, the stentorian voice of Dickenson rang out. "Captain Andrews, of Her Majesty's Guards wished to be remembered. He's just skipped the country." Mary gave a little cry of surprise and dismay. Captain Andrews ! He whom she had refused again and again in England. He had vowed to marry her whether she would or no. He was a friend of Sir Percy's. Could it be that he had followed her to America? The thoughts went thru her mind in an instant. Her nerve in handling the pistol was failing, now, very rapidly, but she bravely repressed the tears, and when a fragment of paper fell at her feet she picked it up and read : "The punchers wish to return Miss Mary's skirt, but would first like to have her consent to make their acquaintance.— Punchers." The faces of the jovial plainsmen appeared good and wholesome as she peered at them furtively from over the embankment. How strong and brave they seemed ! They would never run away and desert a woman. Choking back a sob, she turned the paper and hastily scribbled : "Mary will be glad to meet the Punchers who have rescued her." An encouraging shout, a waving of sombreros, and the skirt and cap are politely passed over the rock. A moment later, as Mary emerges from her retreat, the entire party dismounted, and greeted her with an ovation. "Glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Mary," began Charlie, his face wreathed in smiles. "There's going to be a dance down at the school-house tomorrow night — " He is checked by a warning dig in the ribs from Lengthy, who explains that the excitement of the Indian chase lias been a little too much for his friend's brain. Charlie was rewarded, however, by one of Mary's prettiest laughs, and the assurance that she would be delighted to hear all about the dance as they rode back to the ranch. Dickenson was alreadv getting her pony ready for her and the others