The remainder of the trip was uneventful, if we may except a slight accident by which the train was derailed. No one was hurt, however, and it gave Russ a chance to make a little film. Then, late one afternoon, the party of moving picture players with their properties and baggage reached the station of Altmore, the nearest railroad point to Rocky Ranch. The station was little more than a water tank, and there was not much of a town. "Oh, what a dreary place!" complained Miss Pennington, as she and her friend Miss Dixon surveyed the scene. "The end of nowhere," agreed the other. "We shall die of loneliness here." "I guess it will be lively enough for you out at the ranch," said Mr. Pertell. "But I don't understand why the wagons aren't here to meet us." "There's something coming down the road," said Russ, pointing to a cloud of dust. "That's so," agreed the manager. The dust cloud drew nearer, and then from the center of it could be heard an excited shouting and yelling, and the galloping of horses. Added to these were the sharp reports of revolvers. "Something has happened!" cried Mr. Sneed. "Something _is_ happening!" corrected Paul, while Mr. Bunn looked about for a safe retreat. "Hi! Yi!" were the yells coming from the dust cloud, as the shooting increased. "Hi! Yi!" "It's an Indian attack!" gasped Miss Pennington. "Oh, where can we hide?" CHAPTER XII SUSPICIONS On came that rushing, swirling, swaying dust-cloud, and out of it continued to come those nerve-racking shouts, yells and shrill screams, accompanied by a fusillade of pistol shots. "Can anything have occurred to gain us the anger of any of the inhabitants of this place?" asked Mr. DeVere, as he looked about apprehensively, and then at his daughters. "It sounds like a lot of cowboys," spoke Alice. "At least I've read that's how they act when they paint the town red." "Oh, Alice!" cried Ruth. "What language!" "I used it merely in the technical sense," was the retort. "I believe they do not actually use red paint." "Oh, what shall we do? What shall we do?" cried Miss Pennington. "I'm going back to New York at once!" sobbed Miss Dixon. "Make that train come back!" she cried to the lone station agent, who, with a set grin on his face, was looking alternately from the group of picture players to the approaching dust cloud that concealed so many weird noises. But the train was far down the track. "We must do something!" insisted Mr. Sneed, nervously pacing up and down. "We men must organize and protect the ladies. I think we had better get inside the station and try to hold it against the savages. Pop, you have some guns in the baggage; have you not?" "Yep!" answered the property man; "but they ain't loaded, and before we could git 'em out those fellers will be here."